The Phoenix Queen
by Mrs Pettyfer
Summary: Faith is broken. Hope is lost. A fire will rise. [Sequel to The Rise of One and final installment of The Black Games trilogy]
1. Province 13

****Category: ****Avatar: Last Airbender

****Author:** **Mrs Pettyfer

****Title: ****The Phoenix Queen

****Pairing(s):**** Multiple pairings that you will just have to wait to see ;)

**Genre: **Adventure/Angst/Romance

**Rating:** T - For some dark themes, violence, and light language. No lemons.

**A/N:** Welcome to the sequel of The Rise of One and the FINAL installment of The Black Games! I highly encourage you to read both The Black Games and The Rise of One, because this won't make quite as much sense if you haven't. ;) Now, I have not read all of Mockingjay, so I can't really say this will follow a similar plot intentionally. I'm anticipating this story to be between 15-20 chapters, and I'm really excited (and kind of sad) to finish this trilogy. Thanks for sticking with me guys. We made it to the final story, woo woo!

**Disclaimer:** The Avatar world and characters belong to Mike Dante DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko. The Hunger Games belongs to Suzanne Collins. Both inspired me to write this story.

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><p>I, I will be king<p>

And you, you will be queen

Though nothing will drive them away

We can beat them, just for one day

We can be heroes, just for one day - Just For One day, Peter Gabriel

**Prologue**

Over a hundred years ago, Sozin seized the four nations and established the Fire Nation. He created 12 provinces to rule from his fiery throne in the Capital. There is no freedom, no peace, and little happiness. We survive because we are human, but we stopped living long ago.

My name is Katara and I am from Province 9. My home is surrounded by icy walls and frigid waters, keeping us isolated from the rest of the world. Many don't make it through the harsh cold winters because they could never afford supplies and medicine. But that's starting to change now that I've won the Black Games and brought some riches to my province.

Many lives were lost in the Games, including my big brother, Sokka. I volunteered for the Games so he didn't have to go alone. I wanted to protect him, and in the end he died protecting me. Life is painfully ironic sometimes.

I killed three people and it still haunts me to this day. I tell myself I had no choice, that it was either me or them, that I was defending myself, but no matter what reasons I come up with, each death tore a little bit of my soul away. I'll never be the same as I was before. I'll never be able to erase that final image of their dead, bloody bodies, of the cannon ringing in my ears signaling their deaths. I can't change what I did, but I can't regret it either. It's the reason I'm here, alive.

The only saving grace I have is that I managed to save one of them. I killed Prince Zuko so he could live, as crazy as that sounds. He was my enemy and my ally, and he was the only person besides my brother that I trusted with my life. I haven't seen hope in a long time, but I see it when I look at him. A hope for a better world than what it is now.

That's why I tried, in the limited ways I could, to keep him alive during the Quarter Duels. I wasn't the only one, either. The White Lotus did whatever they could to make sure he made it to the final round. They even rescued us from the Duels and brought us here. I don't know what they want me to do or what their plan is. I may not be a general or a solider, but I'm a fighter and I'll never give up. I've never been in the position to make a difference, but I think I am now.

When I fled the Capital, I chose to stop surviving.

I chose to live, even if it's just for one day.

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><p><strong>Chapter 1 - Province 13<strong>

Province 13 isn't supposed to exist. And yet I can't deny that it doesn't, with it staring at me right in the face.

The city is situated along a wide bay, beneath high rising snowcapped mountains. Run-down industrial buildings and shops line the cobblestone streets and are crushed together, some rising high into the sky with dirty glass windows and pointed rooftops. A tall, beautiful golden bridge glimmers to the west. Just looking at the cityscape I can tell it is huge, two to three times the size of the Capital.

And it is entirely abandoned.

There are carts with wheels overturned in the streets, windows covered with dust and some even broken, doors hanging off hinges, papers blowing in the streets. It might have been magnificent once, but now there isn't a single sign of life in this gray and gloom city. The only color comes from the green tint of my mask lenses.

I look to the mountains and think of the sky bison. I have to strain my memory, but I finally remember what Aang had said.

_"So why do you have a whistle?"_

_ "Because Appa always comes when he hears it."_

Appa. I have to tell Bowen that was his name.

The boat came out to us before we got too close to the city. I don't know all the details, but there is something in the air that requires us to wear these masks. Apparently they don't make one big enough for a sky bison, so they didn't want him getting close enough to contract the disease. Bowen told him to fly high into the mountains and wait for his call. I never saw an animal understand a human before, but the sky bison flew off in that direction like he did.

I wonder why he listens. Does he know Aang is gone, even if his whistle is still here? I have a horrible feeling the Capital didn't let him go home with Aang's body and that's how Bowen was able to find him. The scars I saw on his side show a struggle of some kind, the kind that usually comes from a fight with a Firebender or two. When all this is over, I'll be sure to free him.

I look away and focus on the three individuals in front of me. They look every bit like an image taken from a wanted poster with their matching uniforms and masks that hide their identity. I recognize them immediately as the same people who blew up the arena. The Games have taught me caution and I was hesitant to get on their boat, but a quick flash of a white lotus tile convinced me pretty quick. That and I don't really have any other option.

I follow the White Lotus members through the city. Beside me and clutching Bowen's arm is a tiny woman wrapped tightly in a cloak. His mother. Somehow he managed to get her out of the Capital. That was the other deciding factor for me to get on the boat. If Bowen trusts them with his mother, then I can trust them too. She hasn't spoken much, but I think she's terrified. I can't blame her. This place is too dead to feel any warmth or comfort.

We pass large factories and overturned cargo carts that are so large I can't help but question it. "What did this province do?" I ask.

"Specialized in weapons of mass destruction," says the girl in the middle, leading the group. "It was kept quiet."

Quiet? That's an understatement.

"Nobody had any clue it existed," I say.

"The Fire Lord made sure of that," she says bitterly.

"What do you mean?"

"Survivors had their tongues cut out."

My stomach lurches and I actually stop walking. Mica, Bowen's mother, lunges out and grabs my wrist, dragging me forward. I trip but quickly gather myself. I am so blinded by the horror of having my tongue cut out that it takes me a second to comprehend the word "survivors."

Survivors of _what_?

Before I can ask, we're approaching a section of the road that's built lower into the ground, like an empty moat. I jog down, letting my momentum carry me forward. I notice to my right the path ends at a tall metal gate. It looks like a tunnel that leads to the factory above. This must be an underground entrance.

One of the members takes a stance and shoves his hands up. The gate automatically rises, allowing us to enter. An Earthbender, then.

Inside is a long, dark and chilly tunnel. The metal gate closes and we start making our way down. Mica shivers next to Bowen, and thankfully the other member lights a fire in his palm to give us light. I catch glimpses of pipes and stone, but not much else. We finally enter a large cavern with flickering torches that illuminate the damp and cold looking facility. On the other side of the cavern are two separate tunnel entrances.

"Everyone into the mine cart," says the Firebender.

The mine cart, I realize, is a metal looking cart that's attached to something on the tunnel ceiling. It reminds me a little of what I saw in Five, but at least we won't be dangling hundreds of feet in the air. These just hover a few feet above the ground. It seems to be the transportation out of this cavern and into the next tunnel.

I follow Bowen and his mother to the front of the cart. The girl and Earthbender hop on, but the Firebender stays behind, keeping his back to us. He must be on watch, then.

"Hang on," says the girl, taking her spot in the middle of the cart. "I don't want anyone falling out." Then she shoves a lever down and we're lurching forward.

The mine cart is faster than I expect and I feel my hair whip around my face. A bright light flashes in and out at the front of the cart, like a flickering flame. Behind me, Bowen murmurs words of comfort in his mother's ear. I wonder what he's telling her so she remains calm. Maybe she's so terrified she can't even panic or react.

If I'm being honest, I'd admit I'm close to screaming myself and my head is still throbbing, but I can't afford to do that. I keep my hands gripped tightly against the railing and try not to think of the past few hours of my life. It's all painted with tears and blood and fire.

The ride ends quickly and we stop in an empty cavern. The girl motions for us to exit the cart. I reach up to take off my mask, but she holds out a hand to stop me.

"Wait until we're in the airlock chamber," she says.

She leads us across the cavern to a single metal door. Once we're all inside the narrow room, the Earthbender shuts the door and locks it tight. I look around, but all I see is a metal cabinet and a lot of pipes. He nods at the girl and she pushes down a lever on the wall. A sound like rushing water fills my ears and then it's over.

The girl takes off her mask and shakes her hair free. It's long, thick and wavy, the color of midnight. I can't help but feel an ounce of jealousy when she blinks at me with wide, green eyes and a pearly white smile. She's the kind of beautiful that you can't help but stare at a few seconds.

"Sorry I didn't introduce myself earlier, but I wanted to get here as soon as possible. I'm Asami," she says, and reaches forward to shake my hand. I shake it and then take off my own mask. She looks at Bowen and reaches out to him next. "We've spoken before—well, through letters. It's nice to meet you both."

"Wait," Bowen hesitates, "_you're_ the Mechanic?"

"You sound surprised."

"You're a woman," he says, sounding so much like Sokka that I don't know whether to slap him or hug him.

"Wow, is that how you won, with your perception and cleverness?" Asami rolls her eyes and moves toward the other side of the chamber.

Bowen's lips slowly turn up into a half smile. "You flatter me."

She ignores him and opens the door. "Welcome to our refuge."

We step through to a huge space that looks like a war camp, rather than a factory. Conveyer belts and work stations have been ripped from the floor to make room for make-shift homes out of tents and fabrics, tables and chairs made from cargo boxes, and a few crackling fires. I don't see many people, but the ones I do are wearing the same uniforms. They all stop to stare at us.

"It's so…quaint," Bowen says with some effort.

"It's all we have," says Asami. "This is where we sleep. It's not very private, but it's safer if we're all in the same place." She turns the Earthbender. "Shai, please show our guests around and get them something to eat."

"This is not my house," says Mica in a crackling, hoarse voice. "How are we here? Who are you?" she demands. I can hear the panic, the starting of another meltdown. She starts to pull away from Bowen, backing away like a scared animal. I knew it was only a matter of time.

He must have warned the White Lotus about her, but I can tell they are uneasy and I don't like how Shai's hands are reaching for his belts.

_Do something, Katara!_

"I need you," I blurt out suddenly. Mica looks at me with wide, blinking eyes. Everyone else stares at me in surprise.

"You…you need_ me?_" she squeaks.

"Yes. In the kitchen," I say, praying they have one. "We could really use your help preparing the meals. It's…very important and I wouldn't trust just anyone."

Her hands drop, no longer struggling. She takes a tiny step toward me, curling her fingers into her cloak. "Do I know how?" she asks innocently, sounding like a timid child. Bowen looks as if he stopped breathing and my heart breaks for them both.

"Of course," I say softly. "And the others will help you—you'll help each other. I think you're going to do a great job."

Mica gapes at me in surprise, and slowly her lips turn up into a hesitant smile. "Is this your house?" she asks quietly.

"It is now," I say, giving the only answer I really have. "So will you help me serve my…guests? Help in the kitchen?"

She seems to be struggling with a decision, working it over in her mind. Finally she says, "I think, I think I can try." Bowen's shoulders drop in relief. She steps forward and pats my cheek. "Pretty girl."

"Katara," I tell her. "My name is Katara."

"Pretty girl," she says again.

Shai agrees to take Mica and Bowen to the kitchen, which thankfully _does_ exist. Bowen keeps a hand around her shoulders as they move away, but before he's out of sight, he glances back at me and mouths, _Thank you_. I've never seen him look so desperate and relieved that I don't know what to do with that. So I just nod to him in response and watch them go in silence.

"He told us he was bringing someone who was sick," says Asami, once they're out of earshot. "I didn't realize she might be dangerous."

"We're all dangerous when we want to be."

Asami pauses thoughtfully and then nods. "Is that his mother?"

I shrug, because it's his business if he wants to tell or not. "Ask him," I say.

"How did you know what to do with her?"

"I didn't," I say honestly. I guess she reminds me of Rox a little. Rox seems to function better whenever her mind is set to a task. Maybe it won't work with Mica, but it's worth a shot. "They need to have patience with her in the kitchen."

"Oh, Cookie is a huge sweetheart," says Asami, smiling. "You have nothing to worry about."

"Your cook's name is Cookie?"

"He said it fits better than his real name."

"What's his real name?"

"No idea. Come on," Asami waves. "You need some medical attention."

"Where is Amun Ra?" The shock of the escape, of seeing 13, is slowly starting to pass and all my questions I've kept locked away are about to spew out. "I saw him on a criminal poster and I saw him take Zuko. Is he the Grand Master of the White Lotus? Where are Zuko and Pakku?"

Asami laughs. "I promise to answer all the questions I can, but first we need to examine you and you need to eat something. You're as pale as a sheet."

I know it's still throbbing, but I don't even realize how lightheaded I actually feel until she mentions it. It's like all my adrenaline finally wore off and all I feel now is raw and exhausted, pain throbbing in my temples and behind my eyes. I shake my head, as if clearing myself of all weakness.

"No," I tell her. "I'll let you look at me after I see Zuko."

She hesitates, bites her lip and looks over her shoulder, then back at me. Something in my face must decide for her because she nods and says, "Alright, come on."

We move through the cavern, passing the make-shift homes. Some are propped open and inside I see people tending to the sick. No one pays me any attention and anyone who does stares at me with hollow, empty eyes. There's a strong sense of death and loss here, but I think there's some hope, too. Just enough to keep them fighting to stay alive.

Asami stops at one of the tents and peeks inside. Then she pops back out. "He's sleeping and there are still some—"

I move past her and fling the flap of the tent back. As soon as I'm in, my vision narrows and I see nothing but the pale arm hanging from the cot, the messy dark hair, the even breathing from his bare chest. I move without feeling until my legs bump the cot. I drop to my knees and swipe my hand across Zuko's forehead, pushing back his hair.

He's lying on his back, his head turned ever so slightly on his scar so his hair keeps falling back into his eyes when I push it out of the way. They've done a decent job cleaning him up, but I can tell there aren't any Waterbending healers among us. There are still some burn marks across his chest and neck, a stitched up gash on his cheek, shoulder, and above his heart. He's bruised, banged up, but he's alive. That's all that matters.

Picking up his dangling hand, I place it gently at his side and lace my fingers in his. Then I lean forward, resting my head on his arm. It isn't until I'm almost asleep do I notice my mother's pendant tied around his other wrist.

* * *

><p>I wake to someone shaking my shoulder. I sit up so quickly and lash out that my neck screams at me in protest. My hand clenches around a ball of fabric and I yank down, prepared to strike with my other hand. A squeal of surprise catches my attention and it's like the colors and pictures finally come into focus. I blink and let go, horrified, as Asami stumbles and catches her balance. She looks down at me with concern and, after straightening up, backs up another step. Her hair is pulled back and her pale face is streaked with what looks like black paint. What's she been doing? Her hands are pressed together, holding a brown bowl that smells something both foul and mouthwatering.<p>

"Sorry about that," I tell her, still feeling guilty and stupid.

"It's my fault for startling you," she says easily. "Don't worry about it."

_At least I didn't have a weapon in my hand._

"What is that?" I ask, swallowing. My throat is scratchy and dry, completely parched.

"Your breakfast."

"How long did I sleep?" I say with a yawn.

"A few hours. Let us look at your head and I'll tell you about Thirteen. You can eat, too."

I look back at Zuko. He's still sleeping, his breathing even. He doesn't look like he's moved at all.

"Alright," I say, mainly because I'm hungry and I'm dying to know more about this place. Asami looks relieved. "Then I want to see Pakku."

She helps me up and leads me to a group of cargo boxes just outside Zuko's tent. Shai the Earthbender and another woman are already waiting with supplies. I take a seat and Asami hands me a bowl of thick and chunky green soup. I don't want to know what's in it, but I'm in no position to be picky.

Shai begins unwrapping the bandage around my head. "No bleeding, just a knot. I'll clean it and wrap fresh bandages after you bathe."

I look down at myself. Well, I _do_ need a bath. My clothes are dirty and torn in places, dirt caked under my nails. I don't even want to know what my face looks like.

"Where have you been?" I ask Asami, eyeing the same dark splotches on her uniform that are also on her face. At least I'm not the only one who looks like a mess.

"Working. I build and fix things. Well," she says slowly, "I try to."

"What kind of things?"

She smiles. "Let's just start with Thirteen first."

"Right. They made weapons of mass destruction for the Capital," I say, and force myself to take a spoonful of soup. It's…not bad. Actually it has very little flavor at all, like mixing water with plants. Shai dabs something that stings on my forehead; the woman, next to him, juggles bottles and bandages.

"Thirteen was the Capital's well-kept secret," says Asami. "And it was meant for the most brilliant and brightest of the world, benders of all elements and non-benders alike. Scientists, astrologists, mechanists, inventors—people like my father."

"Your father?"

She nods. "He was sent here about thirty years ago. Most of the weapons are his inventions. He and Professor Zei were kind of the…masterminds so to say. They oversaw everything and built this city to what it is today."

"What happened?"

"The plague," she says hollowly. "We call it the Red Death. About eight years ago the Capital evacuated because a toxin spread in the air like wildfire, infecting almost everyone. The Capital only evacuated those who were not infected. They were forced to live weeks at sea and put through vigorous tests to make sure they were clear. Any signs of the Red Death and they were killed. Survivors had their tongues cut out as a warning to not so much as breathe about the existence of Thirteen. And those who were infected were...well we were left to die. There wasn't a cure."

I stare at her in horror, unable to speak. Shai finishes up with some cooling liquid against my skin. He and the woman leaves the two of us. My head still throbs a little, but it's not too bad now.

"I was twelve," says Asami, sounding as if she is somewhere very far away. Her gaze is focused on something just past my shoulder. "My father was cleared so he got to leave. I was left behind. I hear he died two years ago."

She sounds so indifferent that I can't tell if she's angry or sad. I take another spoonful because words are failing me. Finally, I manage to say, "But you don't look sick."

Asami turns to me and a little life comes back in her face. "No, I'm not anymore. Professor Zei's daughter found a cure. Bacui berries, found in the mountains. She was left to die too."

"Do the masks keep us safe?"

"Kind of. I tweaked my father's design," she says. "He was creating them for factory workers to protect against the fumes. So far it's mostly effective outside, but some of us are still contracting the disease. It doesn't seem to be contagious. It's a slow killer and it can take months or even a year or two before someone dies. The problem is that we're running out of bacui berries. We can't risk going too far or staying out too long to find them."

"So you're trapped here."

"We're all trapped somewhere, aren't we?" She smiles sadly. "Life might be tough here, but we're free."

Free. I can't even fathom what that must feel like. I try to imagine what this girl has gone through, having your entire world uprooted when you were twelve years old.

"You were so young," I can't help but say.

She shrugs. "I grew up fast, but we take care of each other around here. Those of us who survived, we did it together."

I nod, knowing the feeling.

"Someday they'll figure out the disease can't spread too far and isn't contagious," says Asami warily. "We're careful to hide our existence above ground. They send devices to capture photos every once in awhile. We can't let them know we're living. They think everyone who was left behind died."

I put my bowl down. "How many have it now?"

Asami shrugs and doesn't give me an answer. More than she'd like to admit, I take it. Suddenly a horrible thought occurs to me.

"Zuko and Pakku—" I choke out, unable to finish the sentence.

"No signs of the Red Death," she assures me. "They even forced the last of our berries down Prince Zuko's throat for good measure."

I sigh in relief. At least he's protected for now. I feel a sudden pang in my chest. Not everyone is protected.

_Dad_.

When I left the Capital, I unintentionally left him too. I'll never be allowed back in Province 9. I'll never be able to tell him where I am. Maybe I won't even be able to write him. What if I never see him again? Part of me knew coming here meant there would be consequences. I guess I just didn't consider all of them. It happened so fast.

"Well, it's about time," says a voice from behind. It's so familiar and yet so foreign that it takes me a moment to place it. I whip around so fast that another sharp pain shoots through my neck. Only I don't care because I can't believe it.

"Miss me, Sugar Queen?"

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><p><strong>AN:** Thank you so much for reading! I'm VERY excited for this story. It's different from the first two, but I think it's going to be just the right ending. A few things you probably noticed: YES, Province 13 is basically Republic City. Since this is AU and set into a more futuristic ATLA world (which technically is the Legend of Korra world) I sort of meshed the two world's together. So that's why you'll see some similar elements. Don't worry, more on 13, Asami, and other things coming up. This is a short prologue/first chapter to get the story going. Hope you liked it!

I hope to hear from you! I'll edit with review responses in a few days. :)


	2. Identity

**A/N:** I cannot thank you guys enough for your amazing support and following this story. I was blown away by the reviews for last chapter. You guys are awesome and thank you for your patience. This chapter has so many things I've been waiting to reveal for what feels like forever. I hope you enjoy it!

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><p><strong>Chapter 2 - Identity<strong>

I can't stop staring. I keep thinking every time I blink the image of the girl standing before me will vanish, but it doesn't.

Just as miniature, just as pale and raven haired and milky eyed, is Toph. She too is wearing the uniform I'm beginning to associate with Thirteen. The last time I saw her was in the Games, when she tried to get me to escape with her. I remember the lighting, the ground exploding, her scream…

"I—but you _died_," I say, my voice strangled. "They said you were dead."

"Of course they did," she says pleasantly.

I spring up—my bowl clatters to the ground—and yank her into my arms, hugging her so fiercely that it surprises even me.

"Can't. Breathe," Toph chokes out. I pull back but I can't quite let go. Her milky green eyes are focused on my face, but I'm glad she can't see me. My own eyes are filled with tears.

"I'm sorry," I whisper. "I'm just so happy to see you. I knew you couldn't be…I didn't want to believe them. I'm glad you're alive, Toph."

Toph's expression shifts and it takes me a second to realize she looks a little uncomfortable and maybe even bashful. She gives a jerky, nonchalant shrug. "Yeah well," she says, and clears her throat, "I'm glad you're alive too, Sugar Queen."

A sound escapes me, somewhere between a laugh and a sob.

"Okay, okay, enough with the sappiness," Toph gripes. "I'm alive, you're alive, great. Now go take a bath. You smell."

* * *

><p>What used to obviously be some sort of storage room now acts as the bathhouse for the women. It's nothing like the Capital. Gone are the luxurious golden faucets and colorful bubbles that smell like winter and freshly plucked flowers.<p>

My tub is a wide wooden barrel, most likely used for carrying supplies. I don't have to settle for cold or lukewarm water though, like I used to have to do at home before I won the Games. It's steaming hot, thanks to one of the Firebenders. The room is grim, and the little light from the candles catches the edge of wooden crates and supplies.

When I asked about using a bath in one of the houses in the city, Asami had shook her head and said the Capital would be able to tell if they looked into it. I don't know much about how water supply in a city like this works, so I take her word for it. I've bathed in worse than this, with far less privacy.

I lean back against the tub, letting myself breathe in the steam slowly. I forgot what it feels like to relax. When you're fighting for your life or trying to save someone else's, you don't really have time. It's hard, even now when I know I'm safe. I remember when I came home from the Games, every sound, even the smallest of sounds, woke me from sleep. I had found it hard to sit still for too long. I still catch myself glancing over my shoulder from time to time.

I sink lower into the water and dip my head back, rinsing my hair. When I get out of my bath, there will be no artists to shave my legs or paint my eyes. No June to pick out my outfits.

June.

I close my eyes tightly and try to force her name out of my head, but the quiet won't let me escape from the pain it brings. Her name reverberates inside my mind, over and over.

_June, June, June._

My chest is so tight and painful I can hardly breathe. _She wouldn't want you to be sad_, I think. _She wouldn't want you to cry._ I keep telling myself this, but it doesn't stop the shaking, the trembling in my hands, or the tears. June was one of the few people I could call my friend.

And now she's gone.

I can't make myself forget, but I had tried to cram my mind with a thousand different things to distract me from the loss of her—from everyone. But it's here now, and nothing is distracting me from it.

I press my palms into my eyes and a sob tears out of my throat. I start gasping, struggling for breath. It isn't just June's name in my head now. My entire body is shaking and I can't stop, no matter how hard I try not to.

So I let go.

I cry for what feels like a long time, long enough that my fingers become wrinkly. I cry for June, for Sokka, for my dad, for Hama, for Aang—I even cry for my enemies, people like Azula and Mai and Chan. Children who had to become the monsters they are forced to be. We are all pawns in the Fire Lord's never ending game and only when we die can we stop playing.

I don't know how much time passes before I can breathe again, but eventually I'm no longer struggling. I can breathe, even if it's slow and heavy, even if my eyes and head throbs. Surviving the Games—living—doesn't come without a price, does it?

When Asami comes to check on me, she doesn't ask what's wrong or why I've been crying. She just helps me out of the bath, gives me a fresh towel, and leads me to my new home.

I'm too drained to do anything but sleep the rest of the day.

* * *

><p>I wake somewhere between dawn and twilight. Everyone is still asleep. I see several uniformed men and women pacing by the entrance, but they don't pay me much attention. Pakku isn't too far down from me, and I move quietly and duck into his tent first. A healer sits at his side, straightening the bandages on his shoulder, and immediately I feel a rush of guilt. This should be me.<p>

"I can watch him," I tell her.

"I do not mind, child," says the woman. "It is the least I can do."

"If I get some water, I might be able to heal him."

"It is rest he needs now," she says, a raspy quality to her voice. Her brown hair is streaked with grey, but her green eyes are bright with life. "The body is it's own best healer. We gave him and the prince a sleeping draft, but he should wake in a day or two days' time." She pats the stool next to her. "But I would not mind a bit of company."

I take a seat, the warmth of her undeniably inviting. "Were you a healer before Thirteen was evacuated?"

"I was transferred here from Province 6, and I was a herbalist of sorts," she says, then her lips turn down into a frown. "The plants are dying now. There is only so much we can do with our limited resources. My garden grows smaller every day, just as our people."

"You have a garden? I'd like to see it."

"Do you study the art, child?" she asks, looking hopeful.

"No," I admit, "but I want to help and I can learn. Where's the sense in being free if you can't live?"

Asami said there were no more Bacui berries, which means no more cure. There's already so much death hanging in the air. I can't stand the thought of waiting around to catch the Red Death with no sight of a cure in the distance.

The woman looks at me with sad eyes. "You are a kind thing, for someone who has suffered such horrors. I am truly sorry for your losses."

I blink in surprise, my throat tightening. "Thank you," I manage to say, and I mean it. "Were you the one that discovered the Bacui berries?"

"Oh no, that is Jin," says the woman. She smiles fondly at the name. "My name is Riya. Jin has…suffered like you. But she is a brilliant little thing, and just as wildly delicate as the flowers she dissects. She never leaves the garden."

Remembering Asami's story, I say "She got sick, didn't she? And then she found the cure?"

"A brilliant little thing," Riya says again.

"Can she show me what the Bacui berries look like?" If I have a vivid picture, maybe I can find them.

Riya smiles.

Soon after, I head to the garden with Bowen. Riya told me she'd take me there in the afternoon, but I don't want to wait. Toph yelled at me and threw a pillow at my face so I'd leave her alone, so I decided _that_ angry bear needed to stay in her cave. Bowen was my second choice and I was not having no for an answer. He wasn't too happy when I dragged him out of bed, but after the way Riya talked about Jin, I have to admit I'm a little wary of meeting her now.

She wasn't the only one, either. When I asked one of the guards how to get to the garden, the man shook his head and said he'd stay away and muttered that the young girl is mad. All Riya said was to tread carefully and if Jin slips into her own little world, let her. Supposedly, she's harmless and sweet, an innocent and brilliant daughter of an equally brilliant professor.

So, you can imagine my surprise when Bowen and I walk into the garden and Jin takes one look at us, grabs a glass vase from a nearby work bench, and charges at Bowen, the vase tight in her hands, ready to knock his head off.

I lurch out of the way in surprise. Bowen sidesteps her attack and easily overpowers her, the vase shattering on the floor. But that doesn't stop her from screaming. And she screams _loud_.

Bowen freezes and let's go, glancing at me in alarm. Still screaming, Jin reaches into a nearby flower pot and buries her hand inside, pulling out a handful of dirt. She throws it at Bowen, then another and another, coating him in earth.

"Hey, stop it!" he yells, but it only fuels her more and next she goes for a glass vial. Before she can do more damage, and before Bowen loses his temper and destroys the entire room, I throw myself into the middle. The vial smashes against my shoulder.

"Get out!" I yell at Bowen, hissing from the pain. "Just wait outside!"

He looks at me in bewilderment and fury, completely disshelved and covered in dirt. If my shoulder wasn't throbbing so badly I might laugh, but instead I fling open the door and shove him out with all my strength. The battle cry behind me is the only warning I get, and I turn and move out of the way just in time as a flower pot crashes into the door.

"He's gone!" I assure her quickly, holding up my hands. Blood drips down my arm from the pot, but my adrenaline is rushing too quickly for me to pay much attention to it. "He's gone, I promise!"

Jin looks wildly around, armed with a glass bottle in one hand and an arrow—where did _that_ come from?—in the other.

"Please put those down," I say, speaking quietly and slowly, as if I'm trying not to frighten a rabid animal. "I just want to talk to you."

_Harmless, huh Riya?_ No wonder she urged me to wait for her.

Jin's arms drop, and the book and arrow clatter to the ground. She runs a hand through the front of her bangs, muttering something under her breath. Then she walks to one of the benches, sits down, and completely ignores me as she buries herself in her work.

I stand here a moment, shell shocked. When I turn to the quiet tapping sound behind me, Bowen's face peeks through the small glass window of the door. I wave him away angrily. Something about him is obviously very upsetting to her, and I have no idea how to approach that.

_Stop peeking_, I mouth at him. He wordlessly argues back, but I have no idea what he's saying. _Just wait_, I mouth, and turn my back to him.

Slowly, I make my way through the room, careful not to bump into anything or make too much noise. The garden is the only room in the factory I've seen that has windows, allowing the natural sunlight to leak through. There are several long workbenches scattered with stacks of papers, glass vials, bottles, potted plants and flowers, and steaming liquids. Vines twist their way around the walls and huge plants dangle from the ceiling. It looks like a mad professor's laboratory. Maybe it is.

When I get closer, I notice twigs and bits of leaves poke out of Jin's ratty, braided hair. Her uniform is spotted with dirt, and there are ink stains across the back of her pale hands. A wild, delicate flower was a good description. Hunched over the table, she stabs a large black bug with a needle, pinning it down. Then she takes a small dropper and sucks up the juice. She adds the drops slowly to a vile filled with yellow liquid.

Keeping my gaze fixed on the needle, I slide into the stool next to her, careful to keep my distance. I watch, fascinated, as she works. Jin pays me no attention as she scribbles furiously on her papers or when she dissects insects and flowers. Sometimes she jerks out of her seat so fast it makes me jump, only to run to the cabinet to grab some ingredients or pace in the aisles, muttering under her breath. Other times she's completely silent for so long that I itch to make a noise to fill in the silence. The only thing she says to me is "Don't touch!" when I reach to examine a vial that looks like blood. So I don't.

I don't know how much time passes before I decide to try to talk to her. The smile she made after reading something from her papers encourages me. Or maybe she was smiling because her latest victim made a crunching sound when the needle shoved it's way through it's stomach. I try not to think about it too much.

"My name's Katara," I say, and to my surprise, my own voice sounds weak. I clear my throat. "I'm new here."

Jin says nothing. I've prepared for this, so I try again. "Riya tells me you're brilliant."

The name catches her attention. Jin stills, her hand pausing in the act of writing. "Jasmine," she says suddenly. "Jasmine and white jade." She nods to herself and goes back to her writing.

"Can I ask what you're making?"

"Your blood is red."

I blink at her, so caught by surprise that before I can stop myself, I say, "So is yours."

She turns to look at me then. Her lashes are jet black and so, so long, her eyes bright and green. I want to smile at the dirt smudged across her cheek and the flower tucked behind her ear. "But I am not bleeding," she says, as if that conquers my logic.

I don't know what to say to that, so I say nothing. She gets up and walks over to the cabinet. After rummaging around, she returns with a jar filled with a creamy substance. She sits down and holds it a moment, then places it on the table and slides it to me.

"Is this for my shoulder?" I ask. _You know, the pain _you_ inflicted on me?_ I add a little bitterly in my head.

Jin nods. "It will mend you."

"No, it won't," I say quietly. "Not really."

She looks back at me. "My name is Jin and I don't have a father or a sister today," she says. Her words are anything but happy, but she still smiles. No teeth, but a small, soft, genuine smile.

"My name is Katara and I don't have a brother today either," I tell her. It hurts to say it, nearly chokes in my throat, but when Jin takes the flower from her ear and places it behind mine, I feel a little less broken.

"What are you working on?"

She's hesitant at first, but once she starts talking, she's like a tornado. Jin hands me things, shows me drawings that are extremely detailed, uses my hands as two extra ones for herself, and rattles on about plants, herbs, and a number of medical terms I'm completely unfamiliar with. I do my best to keep up, hoping to learn something, but she often zones out or forgets I'm here. She has a strange habit of constantly moving her finger against the wood, like she's writing something. I don't even think she realizes she does it.

To my surprise, Bowen is waiting for me outside the door when I emerge sometime later. He's sitting on the ground, his arm propped up on a raised knee. I bend down, half expecting him to be asleep, but he's staring straight ahead.

"Hey," I ask in alarm, and reach out to touch his arm. "You okay?"

He just keeps staring, looking deep in thought and completely mystified. Finally he says, "Did you see the way she looked at me?"

"I saw the way she tried to _attack_ you," I say. "What are you talking about?"

"She _hated_ me." He sounds so utterly confused by this that I don't know whether to laugh at him or give him a sympathy pat on the back. It's when he adds, "I don't get it" that I do laugh.

"You can't win every woman's heart, Bowen."

"No, it's not like that," he says. "It's like…like she saw a monster."

I frown at that, but I can't erase the sound of her screaming. "Maybe you remind her of someone who frightened her," I tell him.

"Maybe." He doesn't sound convinced, but after a moment he gets to his feet and dusts off the remaining dirt from his clothes. "Did you get the picture?"

"No," I admit regretfully. "I'll ask her tomorrow. Today was eventful enough. Did you wait here all this time?"

"It wasn't that long," he says with a shrug. "Besides, you and I have a date." I give him a look that says _I don't think so_ and he laughs. "Yesterday Asami asked me if we wanted to have a look around Thirteen. I accepted her invitation for us."

"You know, it's not really a date if it's three people," I point out.

Bowen places an arm around my shoulders, which thankfully does feel better thanks for Jin. "My sweet, innocent little Kat, those are the _only_ dates I am interested in."

I jerk away and elbow him in the side, but we're both laughing as we descend the metal stairs and head toward the cafeteria for some lunch.

Asami is waiting for us by one of the tables, prompt as ever. Toph is here too, looking as grumpy as ever. Bowen slips into the kitchen to grab us something to eat, but I suspect he also wants to check on his mom.

I approach the table and grin at Toph. "Good morning, sunshine," I say brightly, taking a seat next to her.

She groans. "Okay, you are _way_ too positive for the morning."

"It's the afternoon, Toph," Asami points out.

"Whatever. Where's my food?"

Asami ignores her and hands me a freshly washed uniform and a mask. My new identity. "You'll need these for your job today," she says.

"Job?" I ask. Bowen failed to mention that.

"There's time for training and learning, but all of us are assigned to different duties so we can pull our own weight around here." Asami throws a glare at Toph and adds, "Well, _some_ of us do."

"Hey, I pull my own weight," Toph defends.

Asami gives her a look. "You do whatever you feel like doing."

"Who died and made you in charge of handing out duties anyway?" Toph snaps. "I get stuck cleaning bathhouses while _you_ get to work on weapons all day? I don't think so, Princess."

"It's a rotation," says Asami, shockingly calm despite the clear growing annoyance behind her tone. "You might clean today, but tomorrow you'll be in the kitchen or doing laundry."

"Do I look like a housewife to you?"

"No, you look like a bratty child—"

"Okay, enough," I say, standing from my seat to block out Asami's view of Toph. "Tell me what to do."

She takes a deep breath and focuses her attention on me. "You and Bowen both survived the Games. You know how to hunt and track. We're very limited on food supplies, and we don't know where the animals might have migrated to. You two are experts and we need meat for our strength."

I wouldn't call myself an expert, maybe my dad or Sokka, but I do have experience. And at least I'll get to see the sun. A thought suddenly occurs to me and I smile.

"I want to be there when you tell Zuko what _his_ responsibilities are."

"He's our prince," says Asami, as if that explains everything. "I wouldn't ask him to do such a thing."

I grumble snatch the uniform and mask. "Can I check on him before I go?"

Asami smiles. "Katara, this isn't a prison. You can see him, and Pakku, as freely as you like. You don't have to ask."

_Oh, right_, I think lamely.

"I know it's new for you," she goes on. "We're just trying to survive and rebuild here."

_Is that what you're doing when you're building weapons?_ I want to say. Instead I say, "Is that all you're doing?"

She shrugs a delicate shoulder. "For now."

This might be a former weapon's of mass destruction province, but that doesn't change the facts that she'd be a fool to ignore. "The Capital has too many Guards," I admit resentfully.

"It doesn't take an army to win a war," she says with surprising fierceness.

With that final note, she leaves me and Toph, who yells at her, "I'm still waiting for my food!"

"Get it yourself!" Asami shouts back.

"You know, she's really a piece of work," says Toph with disgust. "She nags all the time and _schedule this, schedule that_. She's like a mom. And you're here now, so that makes two of you."

"Hey!" I shout.

Toph shrugs. "What?"

"You called her a mom—_and_ you called me a mom!"

"Well yeah," Toph says, like it's annoyingly obvious. "I was around you long enough to figure that out about you." She gives a haughty sigh and slams her head against the table. "I'm so tired and hungry. Won't you get me something to eat? I'm blind—take care of me, _mom_."

"Don't play that with me. You're _lazy_," I correct. "I bet you came from a rich family, didn't you?"

"Define rich."

I laugh. "I knew it." She's quiet after that, and the silence forces me to think of my dad, and I immediately shove away the guilt that comes with it. "How long have you been here?"

"Not long. About a month. I hid out in Four for a while first. Once I figured out we weren't on an island, I knew I'd run into an Earth province eventually. The funny thing is that this province is actually the closest to the arena."

"Really?" I ask in surprise. I don't know how I feel about that. "How close?"

"Far enough they aren't worried about the Red Death spreading that far. It's way north of here. I went way out of my way, thinking Thirteen was near Six. Took me months just to find my way back. When I got to Four, I mostly stayed underground. There were Guards _everywhere_.

"Probably due to the proximity of the arena," I say, still shocked at how far Toph had to walk.

"I didn't feel bad at all when I stole from them," she says with a smug smile.

"Toph!" I scold. "You shouldn't steal. Not even from them."

"Stealing, trading, borrowing, what's the difference?"

"Um, there's actually a huge difference."

"I don't think you thought so high and mighty in the arena."

I swallow hard. "We aren't in the arena anymore, Toph."

"Feels like it sometimes, doesn't it?" she says quietly. Silence falls between us, both of us lost in our own nightmares. Then after a moment she adds, "He was supposed to come with me."

"Who?" I ask.

"Matsu. His father was part of the uprising in Eight. He told him about Thirteen. He's the one who told me. I don't even know why."

"I'm sorry," I offer, feeling even worse since I learned that Zuko was the one to kill him. I don't know if Toph knows. Maybe she does. Maybe she doesn't care who did it, only that he died. I don't know and I don't want to bring it up. "I'm sure he'd be happy to know you made it here."

"My parents sure wouldn't be."

I run a hand through my hair and pull out Jin's flower. The petals are a bright pink with dark purple near the center. Keeping my eyes focused on them, I ask, "Do you miss them?"

"I miss the idea of them."

I look up. "What do you mean?"

"They were better businessmen than parents," she says with a shrug. "They thought I was helpless because I was blind, and they tried to control me like they did their company. You know I was actually happy to go to the Games? I knew there was a chance I would die, but at least I wasn't trapped anymore."

Trapped. I know the feeling.

"I miss my dad." I pull my knees up to my chest. "I can't stand thinking about what they might be doing to him. It was selfish to leave, but it would have been even more selfish to stay."

It's a hard lesson, but I've learned you can't let one person stop you from saving thousands of others if you have the chance to, no matter how much you love them. Maybe it's a fool's dream, but I can't help but believe the White Lotus has a plan.

I change into my new uniform after I get a bite to eat. Underneath, I wrap some bandages around my shoulder. Jin's salve seems to have worked, but it's still a little sore and I don't want my uniform rubbing against it.

The top and bottoms are a dark gray-green, with burgundy padding built into the elbows, forearms and thighs. Around my neck is a soft, also burgundy material that will keep me warm and help cover the bottom of my mask. The pants tuck into high boots, and golden buttons and a black belt embroider my jacket and waist. I long for the comfort of arctic blues, but it's comfortable enough at least.

I carry my mask in hand as I leave my tent, deciding to check on Zuko again before I meet Bowen. I already popped in earlier this morning, but it doesn't hurt to check again, right? I know he's probably still sleeping due to the sleeping draft, but I just need to see him breathing.

I flip back the flap of the tent and halt in surprise when I see that Zuko is awake. And he is not alone. When the visitor turns around, I realize they are not a healer. My heart skips a beat and a strong wave of protectiveness washes over me. I'm about to tell him to leave Zuko alone, to explain himself and answer every question I've had since I got here yesterday. But I do none of those things. Because then Amun Ra pulls off the mask, and he is in fact not a he.

He is a _she_.

I don't have to know her name to know who she is, because the resemblance is undeniable. It just takes me a minute to wrap my head around it. I'm too stunned to do anything but stare.

_Amun Ra is Zuko's mom._

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><p><strong>AN:** Annnnd we finally know who Amun Ra is! Big backstory to come next chapter. :) And for those wondering, yes this is Jin from ATLA. Since we saw so little of her in canon, I sort of used Prim, Annie, and her canon personality to adapt her character. More backstory on her as well. Anyway, thank you for reading. :)

Edited: 3/24/14

Review Responses

**irishauthor94: "Brilliant, simply brilliant, i've been waiting for the reveal for some time, but you placed it perfectly."** - Thank you so much! I always thought Toph would make her first appearance in The Rise of One, but it just didn't work. It's been really hard not being able to tell everyone she made it, lol. So glad I was finally able to reveal that.

**"regardless, my prejudice was completely and utterly wrong, so far this has been my absolute favourite story on this site, THANK YOU for doing this concept justice, i'm in the middle of planning my own attempt at an ATLA games story, but i don't think i'll ever overshadow this, from page one you've had me by the short hairs. this story has shocked and inspired me in equal measure, and i hope it will continue to do so."** - Your review (and from previous stories) honestly were wonderful to read and I thank you for your feedback and positive response. I wish you the best of luck with your story! I'll have to check it out. :D

**SkittleDee: "I actually made an account so I could specifically tell you that I love this series."** - Wow thank you so much!

**"Are you going to include other characters from LOK?"** - At the moment, I don't plan on adding any more LOK right now because there is no need for them, but I don't want to rule that out entirely because things can always change. Originally I had no intention of adding any characters from LOK, until I started mapping out Province 13 and realized Republic City is perfect for that. And with 13 being the weapons of mass destruction province, it made sense to me to include Hiroshi and therefore also Asami. I wouldn't have added them at all if they weren't relevant to the plot.

**InItToWinIt: "I am so impressed with how far this story has come. The plot is so good that the lack of Zuko-Katara interaction is barely noticed - except for when you do have them I fangirl over it for days!"** - Hehe thank you! As I was writing The Rise of One, I started to realize there would be less interactions between Zuko and Katara. I can say that changes in this story. :)

**Familia8: "Don't be forgotten. stay the best we support your creativity love Familia8:)"** - Aw thank you dear! Your review was very sweet. *hugs you* Thanks for reading and being patient!

parodized: "I had these feeling that I only get when I read a legit novel. I cried. I squealed. I yelled. I screamed." - Wow thank you! My goal with TBG was to really bring out all sorts of emotions, so I'm glad to hear you were able to connect emotionally like that. :) (Also, I'm VERY impressed you read both stories in a day! lol)

**Placidwickedness: " I hope this one will focus a tad bit more on the complicated relationship between Zuko and Katara since they didn't have much alone time in TRoO."** - Yes, for sure. There is much more interactions in this story than there was in The Rise of One. Poor things just never have much time. :P

**ChosetoWrite: "Now how did you come up with the characters of Rox and Bowen's mom?"** - Rox was loosely inspired by Aunt Wu, but she's mainly inspired by something spoilery, lol. I'm afraid I can't reveal that yet! As for Mica, Bowen's mom, her personality is loosely inspired by Annie. But her backstory is kind of a spoiler, so you'll have to wait for that too, lol.

**Guest: "I read TBH and TRoO twice! I also made my brother read it! (I think he's halfway through TBG and thoroughly enjoying it!)"** - That's awesome! I'm glad you guys are enjoying it. :)

**Just wondering: "About how often do you update?"** - Usually twice a month, though lately it's been more like once since I've been so busy. Hoping to get back on track with twice a month or more. :)

**Starryo0: "If Zuko can shoot lightning, Katara should be able to hold her own in her own element, consistently and knowingly...ah well, all's well that ends well, and if they end up together well then I can't complain much lol**" - Haha! That's actually one of the biggest differences in canon and TBG. In canon, Katara had no training, but she was able to freely experiment at home. In this story, she has lived her entire life forbidden to bend anything but basic movements. She's grown up under the control of the Capital, with Guards constantly enforcing the law. If she were to do any sort of offensive attack bending, she'd be severely punished. She does struggle at first in canon, but once she has some weeks or maybe even a few months with Pakku at the North Pole, she becomes a master. Here, she never got even close to that amount of time to train. Truthfully, she just hasn't had the TIME to become a master yet. Only firebenders grow up being taught how to fight, which is why they usually win.

**Guest: "Also I was wondering, does/will any character in this story is/be loosely-based off of Plutarch?"** - Ya know, I haven't read enough of Mockingjay to even grasp his character, lol. And I don't really remember him much from CF. So I'd have to say that intentionally, no. :P

**coolcari: "Bowen...all we need is something with sugar cubes"** - The sugar cubes will be making an appearance, don't you worry, haha.

**Onyxx: "just want you to know that you have an avid reader here in Bermuda! Love love love your work! I've been here since the first one and I'll stay till the very end. :)"** - *hugs you fiercely* Aw thank you dear! You know, I've never been to Bermuda, but I'd love to go there someday. Thanks so much for sticking with me through this crazy ride.

**balai: "I know that since the medicine in the world of ATLA isn't really as advanced as ours that they really don't have diagnoses, but if it could be categorized, what disease if any would you say that Bowen's mother (Mica, I think is her name) has?"** - You know, I'm not sure. When I was writing her, I just imagined a frail woman who was frightened and forgetful, who clung to the comfort of the son she no longer remembers, who lived in her own world and was so traumatized by what she saw happen to her son that she never recovered fully from it. Even though I know Alzheimer's has to do with losing memory, I truly don't know enough about it to say that's what Mica has. In my mind, Mica has a combination of things.

**spongetine013: "Is the Phoneix Queen a parallel to the Phoneix King at the end of A:TLA or a completely different meaning that just happens to be a coincidence?"** - It is a parallel to that, yes, and also to something else. :)

**akl: "Was the red plague inspired by the medival plague?"** - I wish I could say yes, but it's actually inspired by a person. :P

**allicaeu: "I kind of ship Asami with Bowen already."** - Understandable. Bowen is very shippable. :)

**TophHitsugaya: "OMG it's like midnight where I am and my brother came into my room and said this was posted."** - I have been astounded with how many people have told me they read my stories with their brother. I think that's so awesome. :)

**Aaliyah92: "I never got into watching Legend of Korra, is there anything important from that series that I should know in relation to your story?"** - Hm, well I don't think you need to have watched LOK, but those who did will see where the two tie together and some parallels. The funny thing is that there's something I had planned awhile ago, and then something similar happened in LOK and I just like HAH go figure. :P LOK definitely helped with some important plotlines in this story, but it isn't required to have seen it so no worries!


	3. The Lady and the Dragon

**A/N:** Guess who is graduating college next week? THIS GIRL! Finally, FINALLY, I will be finished. And that means more time to write. Woo! (And I guess get a big girl job. That can wait. :P) Anyway, thanks for your patience and I hope you enjoy the chapter. It's a little shorter than usual, but this chapter is meant to center around one person. So enjoy. :)

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3 - The Lady and the Dragon<strong>

I almost can't believe it. I don't even know if I _want_ to believe it.

I close my eyes and press them tightly together. I close them because I can't bear to look the mother of the children I killed in the eye. I can't do it.

"I um, I'll just—" I start, backing away. I don't even finish my sentence before I'm out the tent. I think I hear my name called, though I'm not sure who says it because my ears are filled with the echoing of a cannon. I run blindly and practically knock right into Bowen.

"Whoa there," he says with a laugh, steadying me. "Where's the fire?"

"It's her," I choke out. "It's—she's Amun Ra. She's in there and I can't—"

"Slow down, Kat. breathe."

I force myself to try but it's labored and ragged. "Zuko's mom is Amun Ra," I finally manage. My voice is half gone with choked back emotion.

Bowen's eyes lift fractionally. "Well," he says after a moment, "that's interesting."

"_Interesting?_ That's all you have to say about it?"

He stares at me blankly, an almost patient bleakness to his gaze. Then he looks away, but not before I catch the glimmer of something in his eyes, something that I might have missed had I not been searching—something like guilt. Guilt?

_No_, I think miserably, angrily, stunned.

"You…you _knew_, didn't you?" I whisper furiously. When he says nothing, I say it again, a little louder, "_Didn't you?_"

He shrugs ever so slightly, giving me no real answer, and rakes a hand through his hair. When he pulls his hand away, his hair is sticking in all sorts of directions. I'm so overwhelmed I don't even know what to say. I just know what I feel.

Betrayed and angry and hurt.

"I thought we were friends," I finally bite out, and immediately regret it because I know I sound whiney and silly given the circumstances of the things. "I mean—"

"We _are_ friends, Kat," he says tonelessly, still not looking at me.

I want to drop it but I can't. It feels too personal. "Oh, really? The last time I checked, friends don't lie to each other," I spit at him.

"I didn't lie to you."

"No, you just withhold information—very, _very_ critical information— which is just as bad!"

He says nothing and because he doesn't argue or fight back, a bitter laugh escapes me and I lash out, "What am I even saying? You'd have to _have_ friends to know how to treat one!"

Bowen looks at me then, not a trace of emotion on his face. His mouth twists into a tight smile that has no warmth or joy. "And you're the expert, right Kat?"

His words hurt more than they should. _I have plenty friends!_ I want to shout, but the words die on my lips because deep in my heart I know that it's not true. I don't have friends and I have one family member left. He knows it, too, and he just threw it in my face.

The real nail in the coffin though is when Bowen moves past me and heads to Zuko's tent _to stand guard, _like an obedient Guard of the Capital. As I watch him go, I wonder if I can tackle him to the ground and pound all my unanswered questions out of him. But I also want to put on my mask and leave the factory completely. I want to find somewhere to hide in Thirteen for the rest of my life so I don't have to face this woman who is sure to hate me.

And yet I do neither.

Instead I move mechanically through the room and sit on one of the barrels by the fire. I can imagine Bowen standing there outside Zuko's tent, eyes watchful and alert, but I can't bring myself to look at him for even a second. Distantly, I wonder if he's guarding the prince or the woman inside. Maybe both. I wonder if I'd drown in his secrets if I crack open his skull.

As I sit here and try to ignore the aching frustration I feel, I focus on the environment around me and watch the people of Thirteen as they start their day. I've become good at that, focusing on distractions. Most of the people walk in small groups or huddle together, talking quietly amongst each other. A few people look my way. Some smile, some don't. Some look like they want to say something but think better of it. I wonder why they don't.

Most of their attention shifts to the large board on wheels near the south doors of the factory. After they stop there, they split up in different directions. Curiosity gets the better of me because I didn't notice it until now. As I walk over to have a look, I see the board is covered in posters inked with names, tasks, and times. This must be the daily itinerary Toph had griped about.

_Itinerary._

A sad smile forms on my lips as I think of Joo Dee. She knows nothing about Thirteen or about my escape, but how long will they have to torture her to figure that out?

I force myself to read the board so I don't have to think about it any longer. There are only thirteen tasks listed:

_Command, Education, Infirmary, Kitchen Duties, Laundry, Maintenance, Mining, Miscellaneous, Patrol, Research, Resources, Training, Weaponry Advancement._

I see my name, Bowen's, and a few others under Resources. My shift starts just before midday and ends three hours past. I notice Asami under Weaponry Advancement and wonder if that ever changes. Some people, like Riya, are listed under multiple tasks. She has Kitchen Duties in the morning and Infirmary in the evening. But the name that sticks out to me most is under Command: The Warden.

I hear the snarl before I see the fire.

A burst of flame explodes from the entrance of Zuko's tent. He storms out of the flames with rage and fury radiating with every step he takes. He's in uniform, and dangling from his hand is one of Thirteen's masks. I turn and run back, but when I get to him, he doesn't even look at me. He just stalks past as if I'm not there; bystanders stare and move out of his way as if he's fire himself.

I reach out to him and try to grab his arm, but he jerks away so violently that I cringe back in dejection.

"Zuko!" I call after him. "Zuko, wait!"

Panic trickles down my spine as I consider him going outside alone. I'm about to go after him when I hear a voice from behind me say, "Follow him." For a second I think she's talking to me, but then Bowen emerges in my line of sight, as if appearing out of shadow. "Give him space, but don't lose him or let him be harmed," she says.

Bowen nods once and obeys the command. I watch him turn and disappear through the same door Zuko nearly broke on his way out. Reassured it's over, the people of Thirteen go back about their business, but I can't look away. Maybe if I look long enough, the door will swing back open and he'll come back.

"She wants to see you," says Asami after a moment. I wonder, idly, if she knows the identity behind the mask.

Several seconds pass before I say, "I thought she might."

I start to head toward Zuko's tent, but Asami says, "No, not here."

To my surprise, she leads me from the main chamber and up a set of metal stairs. We make a few stops as Asami checks in with other workers. The way everyone regards her, I take it she's second in command. I probably should have picked up on that sooner.

First we stop in the kitchen. Mica is huddled in a corner, singing quietly as she washes the dishes. Cookie complains that we're running low on supplies, and Asami reassures him that we'll have ripe berries and plants in no time. He looks reassured, which leads me to believe he hasn't stepped foot outside the factory in ages. Nothing is growing out there.

Next we stop in a room covered with so many stacks of books and rolled up parchment that I automatically assume it's the Research Center. Nobody pays me any attention as I wait by the door, their noses buried in their research. I wonder what they're looking for, but before I can ask, Asami leads me out of the room.

I follow her through corridors and down another set of stairs until we finally stop outside a large metal door. Pushing it open, Asami gestures for me to enter. She doesn't follow.

The door slams shut behind me once I step through. Tables line the spacious room and are covered with maps, ink bottles, and scrolls, with screens and Watchers shoved up along the walls. One screen has a fuzzy gray picture going in and out of focus. I can't tell what it is. Idly I wonder if this is Command.

Yet that idea does not go with the image I see before me. Amun Ra, mask less, cloaked in long black robes, is standing in front of one of the tables, a steaming kettle in hand.

"Would you like some tea, Katara?" she asks.

"What?" I choke out, too stunned by this question—of all the questions—to say much else.

"Are you thirsty? I was never very good at tea making," she admits as she pours the hot liquid into a chipped teacup, "and the sage is a little bitter, but our resources are growing scarce so we must make do."

I still haven't moved from the door. She seems to notice my hesitation, because she looks up and says, "Please, have a seat. You must have a lot of questions."

I can't stop staring at her. Pale, the same raven hair as her children, cut short and resting just below her shoulders. The same striking gold eyes and high cheekbones, her face barely graced with wrinkles.

_Azula looked so much like her._

Mechanically I plop down in one of the wooden chairs. In my own surprise and shock, I hadn't heard the strain to her voice. If I wasn't looking so closely now, I might have missed her finger quickly swipe under her eyes, or the way her hand is shaking as she sets down the kettle. For all her beauty there is exhaustion in the way she holds herself, a fire on the verge of burning out.

I wonder what happened in the tent with Zuko, what made him so angry, but that isn't a question I plan on asking. What I want to know is far, far worse.

My eyes roam the room and rest on the many screens displayed. "Did you ever have access…did you see the Games?" I ask without looking at her.

At first she says nothing and I can't bear to look at her. "Some," she says finally. "We managed to pick up bits and pieces throughout the years."

I nod stiffly, and the words tumble out of me before I can stop myself, "You must hate me for what I've done."

"No," she says softly. "There is no room for any more hate in this world. I have _forgiven_ you for what you have done."

My head snaps up to look at her and when I speak, my voice breaks. "How can you say that?"

"I didn't know if I'd ever see them again," she says quietly, glancing away. "I am…I must be grateful for the blessings I have left."

It sounds like a mantra, like if she says it enough times she can convince herself its true.

"I didn't want to," I whisper, aching inside. "I'm so sorry. It's not enough, but…"

I snap my mouth shut as bile rises in my throat. Talking to the mother of child you killed, about what you did, is one of the worst feelings I've ever felt. If I could melt into the shadows right now I would. I'd stay there forever to avoid this horrible conversation.

Silence falls, but when she looks back at me, she's smiling through the tears. A sad, resigned sort of smile. "Many parents lose their child to the Games. You saved one of my children," she says. "I suppose it's greedy to ask for more from such a game."

I try to smile back and it hurts.

She doesn't say it, but I know part of her will always resent me. The same way I will always resent Bowen a little for mentoring Jet. It's not something I can help, and I know she can't either. She is strong enough to forgive me, but I don't think she will ever forget. I don't even blame her. I hate what I did, too.

That's what these Games do. They scar you forever.

A long silence follows. I have the sudden urge to fill it and a question bursts out of me. "Why are you called the Warden?"

She laughs. "The title is given to the chief administrator officer of prisons. It's sort of a running joke, considering where I've come from. My true name is Ursa."

Fire Lady Ursa. Now I remember.

"No one calls you by your name?" I ask, frowning.

"When I came here, I did not expect to be welcomed," she admits. "But they saw the mask and knew what it meant. I was an outcast, a prisoner, abandoned just like them. We were all lost, in our own ways. Some recognized me. Many didn't. Those who did…I don't think they wanted to associate me with the Capital."

What am I supposed to call her then? Ursa? The Warden? Amun Ra? What other names does she carry?

Suddenly it hits me. I had already suspected it once, but now I'm almost positive. It all makes sense now, why she'd be so adamant of protecting Zuko.

"_You're_ the Grand Master of the White Lotus," I say quietly.

"A title passed down through my family," she says as confirmation. "My great grandfather was Avatar Roku."

I feel my brows shoot up in surprise. "What?"

Ursa pours another cup of tea and slides it to me. I take a long gulp, too stunned to notice the bitterness. "Ten years ago, I was sent to the Boiling Rock for the crime of murdering Fire Lord Azulon."

"Did you?" I blurt out before I can stop myself.

She doesn't answer. "It was tradition for the heirs to volunteer as tribute when they came of age," she says instead. "Ten years ago, it was Lu Ten's year to volunteer, but he did not. Ozai thought this a weakness and unjust, going as far as claiming it was a scheme to ensure the throne could not pass to him and our family. He believed Iroh should have ordered his son to compete. Azulon did not share Ozai's views and he grew angry."

Ursa pauses and I know I won't like what comes next. I wait patiently, dreading the rest of the story, as she takes another sip of tea.

I was six years old when Ozai became Fire Lord. I don't remember much of Azulon's reign, though from what I understood, it was not much different than it is now. I can understand why Iroh wouldn't, but I'm a little surprised Azulon did not force Lu Ten myself.

After a long moment, Ursa takes a deep breath and continues.

"Azulon ordered Ozai to do as he asked of Iroh, to volunteer his only son. Zuko was only eight. I could not let that happen." She looks at me then, shame and guilt in her eyes, but also with pride and defiance, a promise she will protect her child at all costs.

"So…he died." I could not bring myself to say she had killed him. My father told me Azulon died in his sleep. As old as he was, I don't think many questioned it. "How did Ozai become Fire Lord if Iroh was the first born?"

"It was in Azulon's will that the throne be passed to Ozai."

I gape at her. "And people believed that?"

"It does not matter what anyone believed," she says. "What matters to the Sages is what is written in the will."

"He changed it, didn't he?" I say angrily. "Ozai changed his father's will."

"No," she says quietly, ashamed. "I did."

I stare at her, sure I had heard wrong. But her expression tells me otherwise. "Why?" I ask, horrified.

"Ozai would have done anything for the throne, including sending our son to the Games two years before he was even eligible. I…" she hesitates a moment and looks down, twirling a finger around the rim of her cup. "I asked him if I could make him Fire Lord, would he spare Zuko's life."

She looks at me, her lips twitching into something sad. "And he said yes. Such treason is punishable by death, but he sentenced me to the Boiling Rock instead."

The Fire Lord dies, the second born takes the throne, and his wife vanishes. I wonder what happened to those who questioned this turn of events. Or maybe they knew better.

"But you escaped," I say.

Ursa reaches into her robes and pulls out the white mask. She glances down at it, running a hand over the surface. "I did, five years after I was sentenced. For five years I wore this mask."

I strain my memory, trying to remember exactly what Zuko had said. Didn't he say all prisoners at the Boiling Rock had to wear them?

"They shaved off my hair, they gave me a uniform and a mask, and they took away my identity. I was placed in solitary confinement for a year, as is customary for all new prisoners. Sometimes I don't know how I survived that place," she whispers, her voice far away. "Faith, perhaps. The love for my family. A necessary sacrifice I was willing to make."

My stomach twists painfully. Province 9 must be paradise compared to the Boiling Rock.

"How did you know Ozai wouldn't send Zuko anyway?" I hate myself for asking, but I've seen the Fire Lord's cruelness.

"Ozai's views are twisted and skewed, but he is a man of his word. His sense of honor has always been his greatest strength and his greatest flaw."

"_How_ did you escape?"

"There were riots from time to time, whenever a prisoner dared enough to dream of an escape. Someone who hasn't broke yet," she says. "But one man was able to rile up so many prisoners that some managed to get as far as the outer wall. The prison is on a boiling lake though, so they were still trapped. Some chose death and jumped anyway."

Ursa pauses a moment, and I wonder how many died that day. How many chose to die rather than live out their days as a nameless prisoner.

"The Guards eventually stopped trying to subdue those who resisted and started killing them," she says finally. "Their bodies were dumped in the lake. I managed to steal a wounded Guard's uniform in the chaos. I knew the only way out was to go the way the Guards came in, but it was three days before they allowed anyone to come or leave. I waited until it was cleared and rode the gondola to Province Five."

I can't help but feel a stab of pride for this woman. She could have lost all hope in those five years but she didn't. Sometimes we have to wait for opportunity and then it's up to us to take it. "No one knew you had escaped?" I ask.

"Missing prisoners were believed to be dead since so many died," she says. "It would have been impossible to account for everyone—and once you are sent there, your name and who you are no longer matters. Most are sentenced there for life."

"How'd you end up here?"

"I didn't know what to do. I wanted to see my children, but I was…I was not the mother they knew," she says guiltily. "I was changed, different. I was afraid to see them. So I went to my great grandfather's ruined temple to pray for his guidance. And that's when Amun Ra came. He brought me here."

"Amun Ra?" I ask in confusion. "I thought—"

"His name is actually Fang," she says, "but at the time there were still some fanatics living in Province Five who believed the Avatar could one day return. They spotted me leaving the province on a dragon. So they nicknamed him after the first Sun Warrior to tame a dragon—his name was Amun Ra."

"But the wanted poster said it was _your_ name," I say.

"The Capital's way of extinguishing ties to Avatar Roku. Better to lend the name to an escaped prisoner than the dragon of the previous Avatar."

"How can Fang still be alive after all this time?" I ask in surprise. "Where is he now?"

"I have not seen him since he brought me here," she confesses. "Dragons can live long lives, but I suspect the Avatar's is an exception and lives even longer."

The idea that Avatar Roku's dragon still exists fuels me with hope. Maybe it's silly, but we all have to believe in something.

I take another gulp of tea as we fall into a comforting silence. Zuko's anger…I understand now. His mother that he thought—actually, I have no idea what he thought—was gone is alive. She killed his grandfather so that he wouldn't have to go into the Games when he was eight. Then she changed Azulon's will so that Ozai would be Fire Lord. She spent five years in the worst prison in the world, and she's been here the past five.

I know exactly what he's thinking. I need to find him. I need to talk to him, to tell him he's wrong. But first I need to ask something.

"Why did you bring me here?" I say quietly. "What do you want from me, from the Order?"

"The people of Thirteen are survivors. They now call themselves the equalists," she says. "They are fighting this plague with the hope that someday they can fight for equality and peace amongst the provinces. The Order represents the same—equality and peace. Balance and unity. I was brought here for a reason. How can I not believe the two are tied?"

"Only Zuko has the power to do that," I say. "Why not wait until he's Fire Lord?"

"Because I acted not as a leader, but as a mother," says Ursa. She hesitates. "I…I put Thirteen at risk, but I had to protect him."

_And Zuko may have died before he had the chance to become Fire Lord. He already died once._

"Why are you telling me all this?" I ask softly. "I understand saving Zuko, but why bring me here?"

"Because you are part of the Order now, because we have similar desires and goals, I think." Ursa looks at me then, her lips parting into a small knowing smile. "Because someday you just may be a queen."

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><p><strong>AN:** Thanks for reading! Okay so, I REALLY wanted to write the Ursa/Ozai/Azulon backstory out like a flashback. But that would break the consistency of how all three stories are told. So I think I will try to write it as a bonus scene. I don't know when and I don't want to promise that I will write it, but I really want to so hopefully I can. :) I tried to mix what we know of canon (ignoring anything in The Promise because I don't read those), and integrate it into this world. Also, as you noticed, Fang did not die with Roku. I realize that's different from canon but hey, this is AU. lol

More Zuko, Bowen, and co. next chapter. This was Ursa's chapter. :) And I've been waiting forrrrever to reveal her and her story. Finally. :D

Review responses: (Will finish the rest soon!)

**marisa ann: "This story has inspired me more than any other fanfiction out there on this site."** - Wow, that is wonderful to hear! Honestly, I am touched. I wish you the best of luck with your writing. Thank you for your lovely review. *hugs*

**Guest: "You've been my favorite author ever since I've started reading The Black Games."** - Let me love you! You're very sweet..thank you.

**Sharp: "Will The Phoenix Queen be as closely related to Mocking jay?"** - I haven't read much of MJ, just the first few chapters, so maybe a little here and there? As of now, similarities are mostly a coincidence since I haven't read much of MJ.

**bluebird1204: "And one question the necklace zuko gave katara for the victor diner, is it gonna come up again?"** - Yes. :)

**Readerpossessed: "Moving on: three songs came to mind as I read certain parts of each book**" - Thanks for the song recs! I will definitely check them out. :)

**gretlcascade: "I know this would be very difficult to include now that Katara is in Province 13 and all but I would really love to have her get training, even if Pakku taught her the forms without water? Or Zuko could teach her how to fight with swords?"** - Katara will get some training. She didn't really have time before, but it will happen. :)

"**when Katara was attacked in TRO i literally fangirled so hard and i go back to read those few chapters quite often because even though I love girl power and all, I am a huge fan of a good damsel in distress"** - Aren't we all? :P I love Katara saving Zuko and I love him saving her.

**Shaina: "do you have a face claim of Bowen or at least describe what he looks like clearly since I can't get a clear picture in my head and it's hard to imagine (Bolin pops out as him)"** - Lol I knew everyone would picture Bolin since they're both Earthbenders and have similar names. My original inspiration was Noctis from Final Fantasy, but with skin tone like Katara and green eyes. I actually made an Avatar-like Bowen graphic on my tumblr. I'll post the link on my profile page!

**akl: "does ursa/amun ra share connections with alma coin from mockingjay?"** - I know Coin is the leader of 13 in Mockingjay, but since I haven't read the whole book I don't really know much of her character so I can't say? But Ursa is the leader of Province 13 here, so I guess there's that similarity.

**"do we get bonus scenes from different point of views?"** - Possibly eventually :D (I'll also be sure to check out "I will not bow!" Thanks for the rec!

**SeleneCherie: "I must say, as someone who has written on the site before, I was a bit jealous when I saw how many reviews your stories have gotten. But honestly, you totally deserve them. :)"** - Lol aw thank you dear! Honestly I had NO IDEA what people would think when I first published this. No idea how people would even find it. I'm truly honored for any amount of feedback I receive. It means a lot for even one person to read and review.

**Familia8: "I love how you describe everything it's like looking into a painting. I can imagine every word you write. Your imagination is the kind people want to see."** - Wow thank you! It's hard sometimes when writing, to decide how much detail I should go into or not. I'm happy to hear you say that. I don't want to be a purple prose writer! lol

**DarkSeaKey: "Seriously though these stories are absolutely incredible and I'm trying to get all my friends to read your series!"** - Thank you that's awesome! That's great too that you share your love for reading fanfiction with friends. :)

**Julia: "I think you have enough of your Italian stalker xD**" - HAHA you made my day. :P Never enough my favorite Italian stalker! 3

**PainAndRegrets: "To be honest I'm not a fan of Zutara. I hate the ship and I hate how most fanfics and most fans handle that ship. But you write it in a way where its not only bearable to me, but enjoyable. Katara's love for Aang wasn't written off in favour for Zukos. I like how Aang still has a place in her heart."** - Thank you, I really appreciate your review and kind words! It's not easy reading about a ship you don't like, so that's always a high compliment whenever someone tells me they like the story despite not shipping Zutara. Regarding Aang, I think no matter what story is being told (no matter how AU) that bond between Aang and Katara will be there. It might not always be romantic, but definitely a strong friendship. I didn't want to neglect that.

**x: "I'd like to believe Jin had a boyfriend who looked similar to Bowen, but did something undeniably wrong making her go craycray."** - Lol you will find out exactly what Jin reacted that way. I won't say if you're right or wrong though..you'll have to wait!


	4. Intertwine

**A/N:** Okay so this chapter was finished daaaays ago but I lost internet access and couldn't post! It was a nightmare. Anyway, thank you so much for waiting. This chapter was so long that I had to cut it. Which means the next update should be much faster. :) As always, I really appreciate your patience. Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Chapter 4 - Intertwine<strong>

"I hope your questions were answered," says Asami, as we head back to the main cavern. I don't answer her right away. My mind is still whirling and I had promised Ursa to keep our conversation to ourselves. I know she would have told Zuko everything, probably even more than she told me, but I don't know how much the Order knows about the royal family's history.

"Most," I decide to say. "Just to be clear, not everyone here is a member of the Order?"

"Right," she answers. "The Order leads the Equalists and is an elite group, passing down through family bloodlines. There are only a few exceptions."

That's right. I remember Iroh mentioning that. "And you?" I say.

"I was an exception."

Two masked Equalists pass us in the corridor. They greet us pleasantly and I hesitate only a moment before returning the gesture. Ever since I've become a victor, I've been treated with more respect, even at the Capital. I'm still trying to get used to it. We take another turn and I say, "Who asked you to join?"

"The Warden did," she says.

I had expected that answer. I want to ask why, but somehow that seems offensive. So instead I say, "Where are we going now?"

"To Resource, where you'll meet your director and be given further instruction."

Of course. I almost forgot about the itinerary. I don't want special treatment and I want to contribute to this province after everything they've done to rescue me, but I can't focus on anything until I see the prince.

"Do you know where Zuko is?" I ask.

Asami's hesitation is enough of an answer. I press my advantage. "I really need to talk to him."

"I don't think…" she starts.

I reach out and grab her arm. "I can't _not_ talk to him after everything I've been told," I say quietly, my voice pleading. "I promise to resume my duties after. I just…I need to see him. Please."

Asami looks down, biting her lip. Then she sighs, and finally says, "Okay. I'll fix it with your director. You'll have to take the afternoon shift after lunch."

I let out a breath, relief washing over me. That was much easier than asking Joo Dee to change my schedule. "Thank you," I say earnestly.

"No problem. I'll take you there myself. But this might help you in the future." Asami brandishes a rolled up piece of parchment and holds it out to me. A map. "I've circled all the spots you might need to report to. If you'd like an escort every day, I'll arrange it with the Warden."

"No," I assure her quickly. I've had enough escorts to last a lifetime. "No, that's okay. I'll study the map and ask around if I get confused. If I can figure out my way in the arena, this should be easy."

Asami smiles weakly. "Good luck out there today." She reaches out and gives my arm a squeeze. "Resource might not seem as important as some of the others, but we won't survive the year if we don't find resources."

I glance at her solemn face. Like Ursa, Asami's beauty has aged with stress and fatigue. I know they're both worried for their people, for their future, so I smile at her and tell her I'll do my best. I just hope I can contribute something around here before they decide I'm useless and send me away.

I follow her through the main cavern, passing Equalists huddled around the fire. I hate the dead look in their eyes as they glance up at us. Some of the Equalists have some spark and hope left, but many who have lost loved ones don't.

We keep walking until we stop in front of two double doors. Asami nods at the two Equalists on guard duty to let us in. The doors swing open. The room is spacious and I catch a glimpse of some training equipment—a tall net hanging from the western wall, weights and disks scattered across the floor, sparring swords (one of which is smoking), buckets of dumped water—before my gaze settles on the lone figure sitting in the middle of the chaos, meditating.

My stomach drops.

Asami touches my arm. "I'll wait outside," she says quietly. "Take all the time you need." Then she leaves me alone, shutting the door behind her.

I stand here a moment, staring at Zuko's bare back. Even from here I can see the sweat dripping through the ridges of lean muscle. How long has he been in here? The room is a mess, some of the equipment even destroyed. It's like looking at the aftereffect of a child's tantrum. Only I know better. This isn't a spoiled child's fit—it's a broken boy prince losing control and letting go the only way he knows how to: through violence and rage.

He doesn't say anything, but he acknowledges me by shifting ever so slightly. Just a slight tilt of his head, as if he's waiting to hear the reprimand. He's going to be disappointed though. I'm not here to yell at him.

Instead I cross the training room and sit behind him, facing the opposite direction—back to back, but not quite touching. I pull my legs up so I'm sitting on my heels, my legs crossed like his. This isn't the first time I've seen someone meditate. It's supposed to be relaxing and calm the mind. Maybe if I try, it can mute the nightmares I still see and hear in my head: all that blood, all that screaming, the cannons. I may be learning to move past the Games, but the horrors never leave me completely.

I close my eyes, concentrating on the silence, the beat of my heart. I listen to the steady sound of Zuko's breathing and try to match mine with his. It's a soothing gesture that eventually calms me. It's been a long time since I've felt so at peace and I want to drown in it.

Some time passes when I feel Zuko lean back slightly so that his back presses against mine. It's a subtle gesture, but one that gives me instant relief because the meaning is clear: he is not angry with me. But I still have to tell him anyway.

"I didn't know," I say gently.

I feel him take a breath. "I know. But you knew about the Order."

"I did," I admit. "I wanted to tell you, but I couldn't."

"My uncle." Zuko gives a rough laugh. "Always the protector"

"It was your mother's order to—"

"I'm not the weak little boy I was when she left." The harshness of his voice startles me. "I don't need the Order's protection. I'm not the Avatar."

"It's not about that," I say desperately, turning halfway around. "It's about…look, you are the future Fire Lord. Get used to people protecting you at all costs. Even your father has Guards swarming around him all the time and he's the most powerful person in the world."

"If I return to the Capital…" Zuko's conflicted voice trails off.

I turn back around. There are a thousand things I want to say. I open my mouth and close it about five times. The question—only it really isn't a question—that finally resurfaces actually surprises me because I don't realize it was eating away at me until he brings it up. "You could stay."

Zuko tenses against me. "What?" he says, his voice dead.

"I came here by choice," I admit weakly, "but you didn't. We both know you have the option to return home if you wanted, to blame this whole thing on a kidnapping or ransom. There's no going back for me even if I wanted to, not after I ran and fought the Guards. But you could."

He's quiet for a long time. Keeping my eyes closed, I shrug gently and say, "Or you could stay."

"And mark myself as a traitor like my mother," he says coldly.

I cringe against him, but when I speak my voice is strong. "I'd rather be a free traitor than an enslaved citizen."

"You were hardly enslaved, Katara."

"_Don't_." My voice comes out in a warning. "Don't pretend like you have any idea what my life, what other's lives, have been like. The people…they won't survive long enough to see you crowned. Sooner or later there won't be 12 provinces. There will only be one. And then there will be nothing and only then will you rule."

I stand up and cross the room to the door. I pause, my hand outstretched. Then I glance over my shoulder. "I want you to stay, for both selfish and unselfish reasons. But mostly I want things to change before it's too late. While you wait for your crowning, the world will fall to ruin in the process."

"I can't…I can't just fight him, Katara," says Zuko, painfully, his voice nearly breaking my heart. "He's a Master Firebender. He's faster, more powerful and skilled, with an army of thousands. And he's..."

_He's my father_. The words hang in the air, unsaid.

"I know," I say softly. Of course I know how horrible it is for him to even have to consider such a thing. Ozai might just be the Fire Lord to me, but he's more than that to Zuko. I take a deep breath. "But I can."

He stares at me. "You can't defeat him," he says slowly.

_That's what everyone said about your sister. About you._

"I can try." Zuko stands up and opens his mouth, but I cut him off. "Just go home," I tell him.

"Katara—"

I walk out of the room. Asami is waiting and I'm relieved she says nothing. I follow her wordlessly, hating myself more and more with each step. I told him to leave, to go back home. When Asami agreed to let me talk to him, I don't think that's the direction she'd have wanted. I hate myself mostly because what I told him is the opposite of what I want. I want him to stay, to take the throne, bring balance back to the world, and abolish the Black Games before another innocent child has to die for it.

But the irony is not lost on me. If Zuko waits—however many decades that might be—to ascend to the throne like he's supposed to, then hundreds will continue to die and suffer. If there is a usurping, those lives could be saved, but at the cost of the new Fire Lord taking the throne in bad blood. Ozai also has many supporters, those who might rebel against a new Fire Lord.

Maybe Zuko understands this, too. Maybe I shouldn't have been so hard on him. It's not an easy choice for him to make. Both paths will come with blood, sacrifice, and loss.

When Asami leaves me at Resources, Bowen is already there, speaking to a tall, burly man at the front of the room. I assume he's the Director. Our gazes meet briefly before I look away and move to a shadowy corner. I want to shake it off and move on, but I can't seem to let go of my frustration with him. After everything I've come to learn, that grudge toward him is still there.

I look around and notice our group is pretty small, maybe nine or ten people. It makes me wonder how many are in Province 13. How many aren't dying. I'm relieved most of them in here pay me little attention. But not all of them, unfortunately.

"I saw you in the Black Games," says one girl. She moves closer to me. A thin scar stretches from her left eye to her mouth. "I've never met a victor before."

"He's a victor, too," I say, inclining my chin toward Bowen.

"Oh, I haven't met him either. But I'd like to," she says with a grin.

I shake my head and fight back a laugh. "Are you an Earthbender?" I ask, catching the green glint of her eyes.

Her face falls. "No," she says regretfully. "I can't even fight with a weapon very well."

"I thought training was part of our schedule?"

"It is, but there are so few Masters to teach us. Most of them are benders. We don't really have a Swordsmaster."

"I can think of one," I muse quietly. _If he sticks around. _Then I hear Joo Dee's scolding and hold out my hand. "I'm Katara."

"Lana," she says. "It's nice to meet you—you know, in person."

"You too." I find myself surprised that I actually mean it.

"Do you want to meet Pip and Duke? They're my friends."

Friends. Most of the people in my life fall into two categories: allies or sponsors. Back at home, most kids were too busy resenting others for what they had and they didn't to bother with friendship. I had very few true friends.

"Maybe later," I say, feeling cold all of the sudden.

"Okay." She smiles and leaves me. Part of me aches to follow her. Maybe if I stay here long enough, I can have allies _and_ friends.

_Maybe I can have a friend who doesn't die_, I think sadly.

The Director orders us to pair up and I'm thankful for the distraction. I think about asking Lana, but then I feel his presence beside me and know the choice is already made. I'm still angry at him and have half a mind to object, but then I might not get to ask him things about the Order. So I say nothing. My eyes flicker up to his and his expression just fuels my anger.

"Don't look so smug," I snap at him. "I'm still mad at you."

Bowen's grin only deepens. He cocks his head to the side and says, "Not mad enough, it would seem. Go ahead," he says. "Ask."

"Ask what?"

"Everything. You have a limitless amount of questions."

"You have a limitless amount of vague answers, too."

Bowen just looks at me, waiting. I sigh and indulge him, and possibly myself. "Where did Zuko go after…after he spoke with the Warden?"

"What makes you think he left?"

"I know him."

Bowen gives a little laugh. "Outside the facility. Did a bit of damage to some neighboring houses."

"That's the least of our worries," I mutter. The Director begins giving us instruction, so I have to speak quietly. "You should have told me about her."

Bowen hesitates. "How could I trust you with such information?"

"How could—_how could you trust me?" _I can't believe what I'm hearing. "How can you possibly question my loyalty?"

"It's not a question of loyalty. It's risking critical information falling into the wrong hands."

"_How?_"

I say it too loudly. The Director glares over at us and I mutter a quick apology. Once he falls back into his orders—which I probably _should_ be paying attention to—I add, "How could that happen?"

Bowen looks down at me then, his face serious. "What if you hadn't come with me, Kat? What if you had stayed there or been captured? They would have questioned you the moment Zuko was taken. You've been watched like a hawk ever since we brought him back."

"And you haven't?" I counter angrily.

"Of course I have. But I'm always two steps ahead," he says arrogantly. "And I have little motive to betray the Capital. Makes me less suspicious."

"You still could have told me who she was," I insist quietly.

"I wanted to." His voice is soft, genuine. "But what would happen if they knew who the Warden was? Or that Thirteen was occupied?"

I open my mouth; then close because I know he's right. Parts of truth are always safer than the whole thing. Just like when I was questioned about Yue's necklace.

"Kat, I know you think you wouldn't crack, but you would have been subjected to more than the Da Li," he says.

"I know," I admit reluctantly. "I just…I wish I had known."

"Could you have kept that from him?" Bowen says gently.

And there it is. The biggest threat, even more than being captured, is me. Could I have let Zuko believe his mother was gone, when I knew that she wasn't? I couldn't have looked him in the eye if I had kept something so huge from him. And I don't know how long I could have kept that bottled up.

"I don't know," I say finally.

"Any questions?" the Director's voice cuts into our conversation. "No? Good. Grab your supplies and let's go."

My supplies, I find out, is nothing more than two large pails hanging from a thick stick. And I have to carry three of these.

Water. That's what I'm responsible for. While many of the other, stronger looking members like Bowen have the option to choose from knives, bows, spears, axes from the weapons room. These are obviously the hunting weapons, not the kind Asami works on. I'm envious of Bowen's daggers and make sure he knows it by the look I give him.

"I'm a better hunter than you," I say under my breath.

"You've never seen me hunt," he says, clipping me under the chin with the dagger's handle. I jerk away, fuming.

"Let me grab a spear," I say to the Director. "I can fill these pails with fish."

"Today you are hunting for water from the green river, Waterbender." His tone leaves no room for argument. But I am a victor and a hunter at heart.

"Sir," I start, "I was put in this group _because_ I know how to hunt. Not to fetch water."

The Director crosses his arms. He's a tall, broad man with a thin mustache and beady, dark eyes. I get the impression he's been around here awhile. "You were put in this group to obey _my_ order," he says sharply. "And I am ordering you to retrieve water."

I grumble and glare, but decide I don't want my first day to be a complete disaster, so I slap the sticks across my back and follow the other Equalists from the weapons room. When we reach the main atrium, it's nearly empty. The fire in the middle is starting to die, just a light smoke and golden sparks. I search for a familiar face—Toph, Asami, Zuko, Jin—but none of them are here.

"Masks on!" orders the Director.

I slip mine over my face and tighten the gold filter. Bowen gives it a little pat that I decide to ignore, still annoyed with him and his daggers. I take a deep breath in through my mask; then let it out. Breathing takes a little getting used to in these things and I can't hear quite as well as usual, but I can't really complain if it keeps me alive.

We take the mine cart through the facility until we reach the entrance I remember coming through a few days ago. Soft golden light filters in through the gate. I've missed the sun more than I realized and it's welcoming when it settles over us.

"Stick together through the city," says the Director. "We'll split up when we reach the outer wall. Stay close to shelter and retrieve what you were assigned for. We will regroup four past midday."

* * *

><p>Province 13 is even bigger than I first thought. Suspended bridges, high skyscrapers, small marketing stands stacked next to each other. Some of the buildings are grander than the palace back at home, with green and red tiled roofs and gold trimmed windows. How many lived here? How many died from the Red Death?<p>

It takes a long time before we reach the outer wall, not just because the vastness of the city, but because every once in a while we dart into a building for cover. We don't see any passing airships, but the Director wants to be safe.

The outer wall separates the city from the mountains. It's made from stone, nearly as tall as the wall back at home. I think it's to protect the city from a potential avalanche, but I don't think it's tall enough to stop one without the help of some Waterbenders.

With our masks on, I can't tell who is who as we break apart. I only know it's Bowen by my side from the sound of his voice. "Come on," he says, his voice slightly muffled from the mask. "The river is northeast of the city, I think."

"You think?" I look around for the Director, for anyone else to ask, but the group has already split up. I guess I have to take his word for it.

I glance up at the vast, snowcapped mountains. It's windy here, and will get even windier if we reach higher altitude. If I was an animal surviving in a dying land, I'd be near a fresh water source and hope it was near the mountains where I could hide in a cave.

"What if the green river isn't the only fresh water source?"

"The Director said—"

I can't help it. I burst out laughing before he can finish whatever he's about to say. "I know you don't care for following orders."

"Look at your implication." Bowen shakes his head. "And here I thought I was the bad influence."

"Shut up and cover me," I say, moving forward.

He bounds up beside me, twirling a dagger in each hand. I'm glad I can't see his face because his voice is full of smugness. "We make such great partners."

"We aren't partners."

"No?"

"No," I repeat firmly. "We're just…two people working together."

Bowen leans toward me. "Partner," he whispers. I swing my stick around so fast one of the pails knocks into his shoulder. He feigns hurt and jogs out ahead of me.

I don't know how long we walk, trudging over dead brownish-green ground, but according to the pocket watch the Director gave us we have two hours before we have to regroup. So far, no river and no game. I don't see any animal tracks and there are no trees for cover. Only the mountains loom up high above us, snow dotting across the peaks. The valleys are deep and wide, too large for us to cover given our time frame. I bend down, examining the ground.

"Not a single sign of life," I say, more to myself than my "teammate"—who has proven to be a product of a luxurious life. Bowen doesn't take his eyes off his daggers as he throws them forward, stops them midair, and pulls them back in a swift motion. He's completely bored with this task. "How you didn't starve to death in the arena is beyond me," I say to him.

"I said I can hunt once I have a target," he says. "I didn't say I can track."

"Tracking is _part_ of hunting. If you can't find what you're looking for, it doesn't matter if you're a sure shot."

"Maybe we should forget the river and go to the _gigantic_ bay," he says.

"Do you want to drink salt water?" Without waiting for his response, I say, "I don't think the animals do either, besides the fish. And we _are_ going back with more than that."

"Ah." Bowen flips one of his daggers in the air and catches it flawlessly. "So this is about your wounded pride."

"Don't be ridiculous I'm just trying to do my job. As should you."

He huffs and flings the dagger into the rock some distance ahead. "You're no fun at all today."

"Choose another partner next time then," I snap at him.

Bowen pauses. "So we _are_ partners," he says cheerfully.

I groan and trudge forward.

After getting lost about five times and nearly giving up, we finally find the river. It's a relief because Bowen has been singing for the past who knows how long. Now he can't stop laughing. "You didn't sense it when it was so close to the city and we walked _miles_ out of our way looking for it," he says. "And you're a _Waterbender_. Oh, the irony."

I glare at him, even though he can't see it. "Maybe you should have listened better and you would have known we were supposed to go west!" I throw the sticks to the ground angrily. "Good luck hunting," I spit at him. "There isn't a track in sight."

"Nonsense. They've got to be close to water."

I don't bother with my argument. I'm convinced the animals have found a fresh water source further from the city, where land is more natural and less industrialized. But it's almost time to regroup and my feet are starting to ache from the hiking, so I can't find out for sure.

I bend down to start filling the pails. I can see why they've named it the green river. And I don't think it's the tint from my goggles. The murky water is darker than I've ever seen. I move my arms to bend the water into the pails—and am met with surprising heaviness. I drop the water back into the river, staring at it.

"Bowen—" I look up, but he's nowhere in sight. Of course he isn't—the master hunter is at work! What a headache he is sometimes. My eyes fall back to the water. "I must be weaker than I thought," I muse quietly. With more force than before, I bend the water into the pails, filling them to the brim. Despite the river not being too far from the city, carrying six filled pails is hard. Thankfully Bowen relieves me from all the weight and takes two sticks himself. We return to the factory with six pails of water and no game at all.

Hunting master, I think not.

* * *

><p>After a quick breakfast the next morning, I check the itinerary board and see I've been assigned Kitchen Duties. I have to admit I'm a little disappointed I'm not in Resource today. I know I can find game if I have another chance. Again, I have the evening shift, which means I have most of the day to do whatever I want. I didn't see Toph in the cafeteria, but knowing her name is on the list with me gives me something to look forward to.<p>

Remembering my nearly failed attempt at Waterbending yesterday, I pull out Asami's map and follow the directions to the training room. It's completely empty when I step inside. Someone has tidied up from Zuko's mess from yesterday. I feel a sharp, aching throb in my chest when I think of him. What if he...

Quickly, I shut away the pain and focus on the barrels of water that have been placed in the room. I pull the water to my aid, with much less ease than yesterday. Immediately I catch the strong scent of salt from the bay's water. If I close my eyes, it almost smells like home. I move in a circular formation like I remember seeing from Hama, keeping the water in constant rotation around my body. Waterbending is a dance, she had said.

"You don't stand a chance with a form like that."

My hands drop and the water falls in a puddle at my feet. I turn around faster than I intend to but the shock of hearing that voice momentarily stuns me. "I thought you were leaving," I say in a breathy voice that I wish sounded stronger.

"I never said that."

"You never said you were staying, either."

Our eyes lock and hold in one of those bizarre, time freezing moments. "I did leave," he admits quietly.

"Did you plan on swimming back to the Capital?" My voice comes out toneless, empty.

"I took one of the smaller air balloons."

I cross my arms. "So a coward and a thief, then."

"Coward's run," he says, jaw tensing. "I came back."

"Maybe you should have kept going." I turn away from him, my chest aching. Somehow, I knew he'd leave. Maybe that's why I told him to go. It would be easier to accept him leaving if I believed I had told him to do it.

"Maybe," he agrees. "It wasn't an easy decision."

"It wasn't exactly easy for me to shove a knife through your heart, either."

Silence. I feel my jaw tighten, tears threatening to escape. Angrily, I swipe under my eyes before they fall. I won't cry.

"You did what you had to. I can't resent you for it." Zuko hesitates and I know the thought crossing his mind: _What I would have done, too_. "I _had_ to leave, Katara."

A small laugh trembles from my lips. He doesn't have to explain it to me. I already understand the pain that comes with leaving; the pain that comes with staying. I felt it, too, when I ran from the Capital. "I know," I tell him.

"Do you?" I hear him take a step toward me, but I keep my back to him. "I thought I had lost my honor, and that somehow my father could return it to me if I won the Games," he says. "But I know now that it's something you earn for yourself by choosing to do what's right. You showed me that, time and time again."

I turn around. He crosses the room and I'm locked so intensely into his eyes that I don't see his hands moving until I feel the fabric around my throat. After securing my mother's necklace, Zuko pulls back and gently runs a thumb over the pendant, over the curve of my jaw.

"Leaving felt loyal and dutiful." I feel my breathe hitch in my throat. "But coming back felt _right_. Would you believe it if I said I think our destinies are intertwined, Katara?"

"Yes," I breathe. His hand cups the back of my neck, his thumb brushing the scar on my cheek.

"I want to do what's right and restore balance to the world. Before it's too late." He takes a deep breath, the gold in his eyes hardening. "Even if that means rising against my father."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Thanks for reading and for your positive support. I truly appreciate you guys so much. I was a bit upset I had to cut this chapter off because there's a BIG cliffy that was supposed to end this chapter. Looks like it will be the next one! Mwaha.

Review responses:

**Jenna Lucky13: "hope your trip is going well, and I hope you muse is inspirational."** - It was a very nice trip, thanks for asking! I was outside so much that I didn't get to write as much as I wanted, but I'm back into the swing of things now. (Regarding Zuko, no worries. There's much more interaction in future chapters. :D Zuko was just sort of..distancing himself for awhile.)

**LenaLeon: "And I hope you give the readers a "happy" ending between Katara and Zuko."** - I don't want to say if the ending is happy or sad, but I think you guys will definitely be satisfied with how things turn out for the characters that survive. I wouldn't write a happy ending if it wasn't meant for one; and I wouldn't write a sad ending for shock value.

**"I quite fond to Bowen (does he exist in Avatar?"** - Glad you like him! No, he's my OC. :D Bowen was inspired by two things. 1) I needed some comic relief. 2) I wanted someone to be loosely inspired by my favorite character in THG, Finnick. Can't tell you his fate though. You'll have to wait and see!

**ValidaLionHeart: "I really think you've got both Katara and Zuko pretty close to their original personalities and how they would act and feel in a universe and in the situations they've encountered."** - Thank you so much! That's the most important thing for me. In an AU, I think it's important to keep the characters as close to in canon as possible, while considering the new universe/aspects that would effect them.

**firepluswater: "I specifically made an account on here to tell you that I LOVE your writing style and your story!"** - Wow, thank you hun! I'm so glad you're enjoying it. :D There are so many amazing fics on ; hope you get to check them out!

**chewing on pearls: "Congrats on finishing up in school! I just finished my freshman year and I aspire to be like you and be able to update through college!"** - Thank you so much! It's weird knowing I don't have to go back in August..but wonderfully weird! College definitely gives you more free time since you get to choose your schedule. I wish you the best of luck with your writing!

**Llisah: "Where is Iroh amidst all this?"** - Iroh is still at the capital. More on him later. ;)

**I heart this fic: "there is no zutara pairing for this fic and that makes me apprehensive, are they not going to end up together?!"** - Honestly, that's just so no one is spoiled who starts The Black Games. :P If they see this is a sequel to that and notice it's a Zutara pairing, then they know Zuko and Katara live. It doesn't mean Zutara will not be endgame. Doesn't mean it will be either..:P


	5. The Blood Moon

**A/N:** Wow, this chapter was harder than I expected. Thanks for your patience and waiting. I know it's no fun. Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5 - The Blood Moon<strong>

Every day, I spend two hours—and sometimes longer—in Command with members of the White Lotus: Ursa, Zuko, Asami, Bowen, and Shai. I mostly listen, watching as they pinpoint spots on maps and talk about supplies and inventories. Areas of Province 13 are marked where Bacui berries have been spotted, and also where they don't exist. There's another map that shows the numbers of Guards in the provinces. Some, like Six and Seven, are too big to know for sure.

Asami lays prints down of various mechanical devices and weapons, far more advanced than anything I've ever seen. She discusses their strengths, weaknesses, and how long it will take to get them running. Shai and some of the other Equalists have been working relentlessly to get the screens working, but the pictures still go in and out of focus. The map of Province 13 shows a power plant within the city, and Asami explains that Firebenders used to generate lightning to create electric currents to distribute power of electricity as their source of light. She also says the risk is too great to get them working again, as it could cause unwanted attention from Capital spies. Thirteen wants to keep the illusion that life cannot function here.

No one says the word "war" or "rebellion," but they are unsaid promises. I think there must be some small, understandable hesitation to Ursa's plan though. No matter what he's done, Fire Lord Ozai was still her husband and the father of her children. No one wants to bring war upon someone they have loved, not even Ursa. And certainly not Zuko. I can see how much it pains him to be here, even if he knows it's right. But if Province 13 can be cured and their people can learn to fight, they want to strike out against the Capital and end Ozai's tyranny.

Having Zuko in the same room as his mother is as comfortable as pulling teeth. The anger that he feels toward her is buried deeper than I realized and I don't see it fading any time soon. He won't even look at Ursa, let alone speak to her. I guess I had hoped him staying meant he had forgiven her, but it doesn't seem to be the case.

Ursa never addresses him directly, and she chooses her words carefully to avoid doing so. I think it's her way of giving him space, but I can see the way she watches him when he's not looking: the yearning, the unconditional love, with unleveled guilt that runs deeper than any cut of steel. My heart breaks for them both and I wish I knew how to fix it. I've learned to heal minor injuries, but not a punctured heart.

_It will get easier_, I assure myself. _He just needs time._

I've been here a little over a week now, and my life starts to fall into a comfortable routine: three meals a day, working an assigned shift, the two hours in Command, and a mandatory hour in the main cavern for announcements. Even with a set schedule I usually have several hours of free time. I spend it in the training room and focus on all aspects of fighting: Waterbending, archery, knife throwing. Anything can be a weapon as long as I know how to use it.

Zuko's presence here seems to give the people a little hope. Asami asked him to visit the infected in the infirmary to raise their spirits. The people here aren't soldiers or fighters, that much I know, but they are survivors and as long as their hope burns bright, we have a fighting chance to beat this plague. And, if I allow myself to think about it, maybe even overthrow the Capital.

I check on Pakku every day until he finally wakes up. He's just as cheerful and pleasant as ever, and weaker than he'd ever admit. I decide to skip the formalities of a happy reunion.

"We're in Thirteen," I tell him bluntly.

He doesn't even look surprised, just surveys the dimly lit tent with mild disdain. "Extraordinary."

"Were you expecting a palace?" I ask. Pakku closes his eyes tiredly, but I can't let him relax. Not yet. "Did you know what was going to happen? Or of Thirteen's existence? What about—"

"What kind of person badgers an old, injured man?" he barks out, his eyes still closed.

"The kind who has no more time for lies," I say. "You're weak, not injured."

He grumbles and says, "There were rumors."

"Rumors you suspected were true. Why didn't you trust me with the truth?"

"You're just a child."

"I'll be seventeen in two months," I say, straightening, tipping my chin higher.

Pakku cracks open his eyes and looks at me; his expression is so soft and tender it shocks me completely. "I don't say that as an insult, Katara. You are still young, too young to be an enemy of the Capital and hunted like an animal."

"It was my choice to make." He shifts uncomfortably, grimacing from the pain in his shoulder. "Was nearly getting yourself killed part of the plan, too?"

"Give me a drink, will you?" I hand him the cup of water beside the bed. He takes a small sip and coughs. "Tastes terrible."

I take back the cup with a roll of my eyes. "I'll be sure to find a fresh spring just for you."

One of the healer's comes in to tend to him and I leave her to it. He'll probably request more water and heal any other injuries he still has anyway. I need him rested and well so he can train me. It's about time I learn to master my own element.

The training room is empty when I reach it. I think it must have been another manufacturing room; all the conveyor belts have been ripped from the ground and thrown into the west wall to make plenty of empty space for practice. Now the floor is scattered with supplies and weapons that both benders and non-benders can use to train. I filled up a large barrel of water the other day and leave it here to train with.

I reach out and, shockingly, struggle to pull it to my aid.

"I thought you were a decent bender."

I'm not surprised he crept up on me without me knowing, but I am surprised it makes me smile, just a bit. "Did you come here just to insult me?" I ask, without turning.

"I didn't insult you."

"No, you just implied that I'm a bad bender."

"I meant—that's not what I meant," Zuko says in frustration. "I mean it's not natural for you."

Now the smile vanishes and I turn around to face him. "Well, I'm sorry I'm a little rusty. Some of us were forbidden to practice bending growing up and I've kind of been busy lately," I snap at him.

But he doesn't seem to be listening. After a moment his hand, which has been rubbing his chin thoughtfully, drops. He looks at me and finally says, "You're very comfortable with a sword."

Of course I am. My dad had a weapon in my hand as soon as I could swing it, teaching me the ways to provide for our family. "I'm also comfortable with water," I say. "I am a _Waterbender_ you know."

He shakes his head. "You might be comfortable with it, but you don't move with it like you are." Zuko strides forward and then stops. He tilts his head to the side, considering me. The intensity in his gaze almost makes me squirm. "Even your kills in the arena weren't with your element. You used a weapon in close range. Maybe that's your strength."

I almost laugh, but the sudden haunting of my own kills stops my breath short. "I'm not strong enough physically to fight close range."

"It's not always about physical strength. Close range combat requires adaptation and change, the ability to maneuver and adjust to your opponent. Just like—"

"Water," I finish for him.

_You don't bend like most benders_, he once said to me. I pull the water from the ground with a little more effort than before and let it dance across my palms. "What are you saying, exactly?" I ask.

"Water can be just as powerful and forceful as fire and just as destructive. But that takes great skill and mastery."

"So you're saying I have no skill," I say flatly.

"_No_," he says, frustrated again. He crosses his arms, looking impossibly taller. "It would take years for you to learn that kind of control and power, to learn a whole new fighting technique and style."

I let the water drop again, suddenly feeling defeated. But Zuko walks over to me and tips my chin up with a finger, forcing my eyes to his. "You already have your own style, Katara. Don't fight who you are."

Then he steps back and draws a dull sword from his waist I didn't even notice until now. He points the tip at my feet. "Bend that water into two ice blades." I open my mouth to protest, but he says "Trust me."

Because I do, I listen to him, hardening the water until it forms a blade of ice in each of my hands.

And then Zuko attacks me.

I block his attack, but the sword in my right hand shatters into beads of water at the contact.

"Again," he says. "Concentrate on not letting the water break it's form."

He pivots and slashes forward, but I sidestep his move in time. "Kind of hard to do when you're fighting me," I say with a grunt, dancing out of the way from another blow.

"Attackers usually don't make it easy for their opponents," he says. I swing forward to hit his waist, but his sword comes down and shatters one of mine once again.

"Again," he says.

We go at it for what feels like hours. After a while, I'm able to keep control of the water so that the ice doesn't break at the first contact of steel. But after about three or four quick hits, the ice always shatters to water. I get so frustrated and finally yell, "Why can't I just use steel like you? Or use water whips?"

"Because ice is more deadly than water in close combat and more adaptable than steel. Can you bend steel?"

"No," I mutter reluctantly. My arms drop fractionally as I consider him, and I realize my mistake a second too late. Zuko knocks me onto my back.

"Again."

Finally, late in the evening, I hobble to my bed, my muscles aching with each step. It's been months since I've had to do any sort of real fighting. Zuko thinks with enough practice I'll be able to alternate my swords between states of ice and water at the blink of an eye—water whips for longer range, ice for close. We argued over the whips. He wants me to use ice for them as well, but I've tried and it's so much harder. _Just keep practicing_, he says.

I almost laugh now. I can barely _move_, let alone practice. I pull the sheets up to my chin and drift to sleep almost instantly.

* * *

><p>Zuko and I train every day. Some days are worse than others.<p>

"It's like you're not even trying."

"Shut up, Toph!" I shout, barely dodging Zuko's blow. She has been quite insufferable during my training sessions. "How about _you_ come over here and show me how it's done?"

"I don't need training," she says with a wave of her hand. The most infuriating part is that I believe her.

I've never been trained before. At least not long enough to make me a master. Zuko tells me I fight like a survivor, not a soldier. I don't know if that's a compliment or not, but I know my technique needs work. As a tribute, I didn't have enough time to master my element—unlike the Fire tributes, who had been taught proper techniques and skills since they were children. I am a survivor, but I can be a soldier, too. I have to find the balance between the proper techniques of a Master Waterbender and a girl who scraped and clawed for her life.

Zuko kicks once, twice, three times in quick fluid movements, sending fire barreling at me. I cartwheel out of the way, but I don't recover fast enough to block his next move. His fist lands into my right shoulder, knocking me down; my icy swords shatter on the ground.

"You're weak from not training," he says.

Begrudgingly, I know he's right.

"Well, excuse me," I say, massaging my shoulder and getting to my feet. "I didn't exactly have much time to practice the past six months while I was touring and _mentoring_."

He just shrugs. "Your excuses don't matter." I feel a slight jab of pride to hear that he is a little winded. "The fact remains that you're weak."

"I'm not weak!" I lash forward with two whips frozen at the tips. Zuko dives to the side and rolls, then springs up and slashes down with his feet. Fire tears across my whips and then I feel his foot knock into my chest, sending me backward into the wall with minimal effort from him.

Well, I did say a _little_.

* * *

><p>Bowen suggests I build my endurance, so we go for a jog every other morning before breakfast. It's not entirely fun wearing our Equalist gear, but seeing the sun rise over the mountains makes it worth it. Sometimes we stop in abandoned shops and houses, looking for supplies we can use. Usually they're empty, as the Equalists seemed to have searched the city top to bottom. One day we see a huge, sprawling estate set high above the city and promise to go back and search it, more out of curiosity than anything else because we're both sure it's been raided by now. No one complains that we leave the factory, even though I think only Resource is permitted to.<p>

After a few days of this new routine, I notice it helps greatly in the training room. I don't tire as quickly and I'm able to keep control of the ice much longer.

But even as I improve, I usually end up flat on my back.

"Again," Zuko always says.

I start to hate that word.

* * *

><p>The training room begins to fill up more and more each day. Sometimes they just watch, sometimes they practice themselves. Asami says we're motivating others to learn how to fight and use their element, and that Training is being taught more seriously. Many of the instructors stop us to ask questions and it quickly becomes obvious to me that no one was recruited to this Province for their ability to fight. Still, if they are willing to learn, that's all that matters now.<p>

I finally manage to talk Toph into training the Earthbenders and I almost wish I hadn't. She has no patience, makes them stand in their stances until their legs nearly give out, and spends more time yelling and pointing than teaching. Once I walked in and saw two men with their feet stuck to the ground as she hurled large rocks at them. Luckily, I had a barrel of water and managed to split the rocks in half before they collided with the terrified Earthbenders.

We got into a pretty heated argument after that, but Bowen managed to smooth it over and offer to teach with her. She wasn't happy about it at first, but he has a way with words and made her blush from head to toe.

Pakku is still not feeling up to sparring, so I continue my training with Zuko and now Bowen, too.

_"Learning to throw your element will give you better precision and accuracy than steel. Your control with ice daggers isn't bad, but it could be better,"_ Bowen had said. I then watched him nail all five targets on the wall from an impossible distance away. He gained more attention—as if he needed more of that—when the people realized it was metal he was controlling, not just earth.

He's right though, I'm not bad with daggers—steel or ice—but I don't have the precision he does. So I spend an extra half hour after training working on my aim, visualizing the ice as an extension of my arm and guiding it to where I want it to go.

And each day, I get a little better.

* * *

><p>Pakku comes in and watches one day, after about a week of working with both Zuko and Bowen. He doesn't say much as I train, only steps in to adjust my arms or legs, or moves my shoulders and tells me to straighten my back and strike with precision.<p>

"Am I a Master yet?" I ask him jokingly, launching an ice dagger at the target on the wall.

But it never reaches the target and it's not my doing. It halts midair, breaks into water and falls to the ground in a pool, then rises above and hardens into ice, spreading over the room like an icy cloud. "To master Waterbending, you must effectively use water interchangeably in different phases with relative ease," says Pakku. Then he slices out a hand and the ice shatters into tiny dust, showering us with what looks like glimmering snowflakes. The small crowd begins to cheer.

He could have just said no.

* * *

><p>Zuko and I are always the last two to leave the training room. We have to report back by ten for roll call, so we never stay past half till. We always walk back together, usually in silence. One day I blurt out a question without really thinking.<p>

"Do you want to have dinner tomorrow? Or lun—any meal?" I finish lamely.

He hesitates only a step, clearly caught off guard. He recovers quickly and says, "With you?"'

"Yeah, and the rest of Thirteen," I say with a nervous laugh. "I notice you don't eat in the cafeteria."

"So?"

"So you don't have to eat alone."

"What if I like eating alone?"

"Well…fine then!" Suddenly flustered, and glad we're almost to the main cavern, I speed past him without looking back and wishing I just kept my big mouth shut.

* * *

><p>Ursa stops in the training room a few times, hiding behind her mask. She's usually flanked by Shai and two more unmasked Equalists. If she's impressed by our training, it's hard to tell, but one day she nods in my direction and it's enough to brighten my mood. Zuko, unsurprisingly, pays her no attention. I want to say something, anything, but the right words never seem to come out.<p>

An even more surprising visitor than Ursa is Jin. She doesn't come every day, but when she does she stays hidden in a corner. She doesn't say anything, but she always hands me a bottle of cream when I finish, a healing ointment. I'm starting to have a large collection building in my tent.

I decide to add another hour to my schedule, visiting Jin in her garden. She teaches me how to make minor healing ointments from the herbs she has in stock and shows me various poisonous plants to watch out for. She still goes off into her own world sometimes and I can't always understand what she mumbles or rattles on about, but her mind is a piece of art. The medicines work brilliantly and her drawings are beautiful and haunting. I tell her about my home, about the heavy white snow and the chilling wind. I ask her to paint me a picture and every day when I ask about it, she shouts "It's not finished!" and rushes over to cover it with a blanket.

After a few days in her presence, once she's comfortable around me, I decide to ask her something I've wanted to for a while. "Would you like to go with me sometime when I'm assigned to Resource?"

Her large green eyes widen and she drops the paint brush she's holding. "Out…outside?" she says breathily.

I nod.

Her hands knot into her shirt and she leans away from me. I can sense her withdraw, so I say, "No one knows the plants like you do. Maybe you can help us find more Bacui berries."

She stands up and backs away, muttering something about "not safe" under her breath.

"It is safe, I promise. You've been out there before, remember?" When she doesn't say anything, just keeps staring at me with wide blinking eyes, I step forward and grab her hand. "I will keep you safe."

Jin tilts her head to the side and to my surprise, doesn't pull away. Her lips part into a small, tiny smile.

The next day, she gives me a gift, only it isn't my painting of home. "For your water," she says.

I run my hands over the rough water skin. It's oddly shaped, with mismatching threading, but the strap is long enough to swing over my body. "Did you make this?" I ask, glancing up her.

Jin nods. "I saw…I saw you carry water. You can carry it again."

In the Games. I forget sometimes that members of Thirteen—even Jin—saw moments from the Games. She must be talking about that.

I surprise her by reaching forward and hugging her. "I love it," I say. "Thank you, Jin."

After a long hesitation, her small arms go around me and she hugs back.

* * *

><p>It isn't until the third week of training that I fully disarm Zuko with my ice sword. Once his arm is free, I shift the dagger to a watery whip and slash forward, incasing his hand and knocking him into the wall. Then I freeze the water, just where his hand is, so that he's trapped by his hand incased in ice. It all happens so quickly that he just looks at me with mild surprise and, I think, maybe some pride.<p>

I just grin at him.

Later that night, he sits with me at dinner. And every day after.

* * *

><p>"They want you to train them too," I say to Zuko. I've already spoken with Asami about letting Zuko lead some shifts in Training.<p>

"Who?" he asks.

"Firebenders and the non-benders. They need a master swordsman to train them."

"I'm hardly a master," Zuko mutters. He grimaces at his bowl. "What is this stuff?"

"Protein. Now hush." Still, I swap his bowl with my own. My—whatever this is—isn't quite as soggy. Mentally, I make a note to request more shifts in Resource. At least I'm scheduled for it this evening. "Between you and Bowen, they will learn something. More than they're learning now."

"Katara—"

"These people were sent here for their brains and ability to create weapons, not to _be_ weapons themselves," I interrupt. "If we have any hope to…" I can't quite make myself say it, not to him. "We need more soldiers, not just rebels."

"In a few months, there might not be anyone at all," he says grimly.

I feel my heart sink because he's right. We've almost been here a month, and eight more people have contracted the disease.

"Once a week is nothing," I say. Training is only on our schedule once a week, where we receive instruction from a "master" All other training is during our free time, on our own. Proper instruction has only been offered once a week because of the lack of bending masters—there isn't even a Waterbending Master, apart from Pakku. My scheduled training session is with the Firebenders. "More are showing interest and spending time in the training room, but we need everyone who isn't infected. And it has to be every day, or close to it."

Zuko glances up at me. "I'm not like Uncle. I'm not the best teacher."

I reach across the table and squeeze his hand. "If you can teach a Waterbender, you're better than you think."

After I finish eating, I take my tray to the kitchens and nearly drop it at the sight of seeing Bowen—too tall, ducking under pots and pans and hunched over a large basin—scrubbing dishes. It takes everything in me not to bust out laughing. I nearly succeed.

He looks up at the sound of my stifled laugh.

"Not a word, Kat," he says, swiping dark hair from his eyes. He's wearing an apron, too! Oh, if Jin was here to paint this moment. The proud and beautiful Bowen, a disheveled mess slaving over dishes wearing a flowery apron.

"That's a good look," I say with some effort at composure, gesturing to the apron.

"Asami has a real sense of humor."

"Remind me to congratulate her on her scheduling."

Mica, carrying a small stack of dirty plates and singing under her breath, dumps them into Bowen's basin and splashes soapy water all over him. He closes his eyes and looks pained as she moves away, still singing.

I leave the kitchen still smiling, and head to Resource with Zuko. We pair up together silently and slide on our masks. Resource is usually during an afternoon shift, but today we're going out in the evening, hoping a change in time will increase our chances of finding game. To my surprise, the Director asks Zuko and I to hunt for Bacui berries north of the city.

"No water today?" I can't help but ask. The look he sends me makes me regret it and I look away, hoping he ignores me. He does, unbelievably, and I'm grateful when we leave the room and head out of the factory.

Asami has been working on the masks, adding an adjustable knob to lower the tint of the goggles. I'm wearing one of her prototypes and I lower the tint slightly. Even though I know the green tint helps me see in the dark, I need to be able to see the bright right color of the Bacui berries.

Our group breaks apart to fulfill their tasks and splits up when we exit the factory. The moon welcomes me and shines down on the city, casting it in a pearly glow. I tip my head back, my face skyward.

"It's not the sun, but it's close," I say.

"I miss it," Zuko admits quietly. "My bending isn't as strong when I'm stuck underground for days on end."

"Come with me and Bowen in the mornings," I offer. "We jog through the city."

"You shouldn't."

"Why not?" I ask, glancing at him.

"You could attract unwanted attention."

"No one stops us from leaving."

"Of course they don't. You're White Lotus." He pulls out a compass and then heads north, toward the outer wall. "But that doesn't give you the liberty of being careless."

"We're not careless!" I break out into a light jog to catch up to him. "We—" As though my body stops working, I stumble to the side, knocking into Zuko. He whips around to steady me, but I can't quite get my footing.

"Katara?"

I try to say something, but bile rises in my throat. I feel so faint all the sudden and I have no idea what's come over me. But beneath the nausea is something worse, something empty. It feels like part of my soul was just ripped away.

"Katara." Zuko gives me a little shake. "Katara, what—"

His words die on his lips. Still hanging onto him, I glance up in his direction, but he isn't looking at me. I turn my head, following his stunned gaze, and my mouth drops open.

With a shaky hand, I turn the tint all the way down and see what looks like a wave of crimson paint the mountains and the valleys. It keeps spreading, covering the ground and everything in sight, until it passes over and above me. Resting high in the sky is a bloody moon.

Everything—the entire city—is tinted red.

I feel that faintness again, that emptiness, that feeling that something horrible is missing from me and a sort of wrongness. I sink further into Zuko so that he's practically holding my whole weight. I don't know what makes me do it, but I reach out with a shaky hand to bend the water from my water skin.

And nothing answers my summon. No water comes.

"Zuko," I choke out. "My bending…"

His head jerks down to look at me. "What?"

"It's gone."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Hope you liked it! Tinnnnny bit of a cliffy. :P Fun fact. In my original outlining, this was going to be the ending of The Rise of One. Yikes.

I believe in the series, the Waterbenders don't actually feel the loss of their bending in book 1, but I wanted to convey it differently here, a strong powerful emotion of loss. You'll have to wait to see exactly what happened. ;)

It's been a looong time since a Q&A, so let's have one! Remember, you get to ask one question. So choose your character wisely! (For those new to this, you can ask a character a single question, and I'll answer next update.) If it's dives into feelings spoils, like asking Zuko if he loves Katara, you'll have to wait on that. Those types of things, I think, are better read in the narrative. :D

Thanks again guys, you're awesome. Review responses below!

Review Responses:

**problemcats1and2: "I also really like how you've worked in some LOK into the story"** - Thank you! When I started TBG, Legend of Korra wasn't out yet I don't think, but after it aired and I saw how in canon how technology advanced in that time frame, I wanted to incorporate some of it into here. I feel like Ozai is a bit of a traditionalist, so that's why the Capital and most other provinces aren't quite as..modern as 13.

**Honey: " I've never liked first person as much as when you've written it." -** Well thank you! I used to hate first person myself, especially in fanfics. Most of my stories are third, but I felt like Katara spent so much time alone (like in THG) that first person would be better. Glad you like it!

**Raynn Romantica: "how goes the progress with the Zutara/Mulan story?"** - I've got the first chapter written, and a rough outline for the story. I'm trying to focus mostly on this fic until I finish because I'm not good at multi-tasting with fics, lol. Especially because that will be in third person, and Katara, Zuko, Sokka..they're all a little different there than here. It's like when you write Zuko from S1, he's different if you write him in S3, you know? Same person, some similarities, but some differences too. I don't want to mix my stories up personality wise, lol. Also, good luck with your Pocahontas crossover! That sounds like a lot of fun. :D

**Nina: "Will Zuko have this connection with Spirit World?"** - Hello Poland! :D To answer your question, maybe.

**olivegirl2321: "I'm most impressed by your ability to create OCs."** - Thank you so much! (And also for your other lovely compliments) I think OC's can be tough, and I wanted most of mine to have some purpose to the story.

**"Will there be any LOK characters later?"** - Ehh I don't want to give a definite answer because that could change, but I don't plan on it at this time.

**"I'm also really anxious to find out what Jin's deal is"** - Jin's back story is coming soon! I'm just waiting for the right time for it. :D

**Schizma: "I'm just a fan of speaking ones mind because it is much simpler and doesn't create confusion."** - Same here, actually. That's one of the hardest part of writing is trying to stay true to the characters, even when they do/behave like you wouldn't. :P

**"I need Bowen. I need him so much it starts to hurt."** - Lol I'm glad you like him! He's one of my favorites to write, and actually one of the easiest. I will say...his love life is going to be present in this story.

**PoptartProdigy: "I like the way you depict Zuko's (sort-of) resolution to his conflict in this chapter. Almost leaving and then turning back is a powerful bit of symbolism"** - Thank you! I battled for a looooong time on how long Zuko would be gone. If he would get halfway to the Capital and turn back; if he would get all the way there and stay a while, before returning, etc. I think it probably could have been written either way, but I had already published it with him leaving and returning soon after he left, so I just kept it, lol.

**Guest: "I wonder if we will be having a zuko and katara v ozai battle in the end similar to the battle at they fought together at the end of avatar?!"** - There will be some big battles for sure, though I don't want to spoil who is fighting who. :D

**Me bored inc: " I have been following this series since you first posted The Black Games and I have loved every moment of it."** - Wow, you are faithful! lol To any reader who has been here since the beginning, you guys especially rock because this has been a long road since then. I appreciate every single reader, but there is a special place especially in my heart for those who gave this a shot in the very beginning. 3

**NightSky99: "Is coming up with the plot hard for such a deep novel? or does the Hunger Games storyline kind of help?"** - THG story line helps a lot. It helped give the stories a foundation and basic outline. But yes, I think any story is hard to plot, even if there is an inspiration behind it. Some has to be planned early on; while other events happened as I was writing. But it was definitely fun, even if hard at times.

**momo211: "What happens if more than 1 person volunteers as a tribute?" -** The first person to volunteer would get it. If a rare instance happened where two or more people shouted at the same time, their names would go into the reaping bowl and another drawing would be issued.

**"If someone volunteers, can another person volunteer in their place as well? (Ex. Zuko volunteered for Iroh and Lu Ten volunteers for Zuko)"** - Nope. Once someone volunteers, that's it. :P

**"What ever happened to the person who attacked Katara in the hall" -** They got away. The attacker was not meant to be a future villain, but to show that Katara is not safe, that there are many who oppose her. It's not all sunshine and roses just because she won.

**ChaCBS: "I read from The Black Games to here all at once! (And yes- ALL on my phone!"** - Shut up. On your phone?! You win all the awards.

**"will we've hearing more about Suki?**" - Yes!

**"Also, as a bonus, could you do a few characters' reapings, especially the ones we don't know so well?"** - Maaaaybe. After I'm finished with TPQ I might write some bonus scenes. :D

**smileyluvstwilight: "I really hope there's not going to be a love triangle that gets in the way of their relationship as I hate love triangles between the main characters. I feel like it takes attention away from the plot and creates unnecessary drama!"** - I have so much I want to say but can't for spoiler reasons, lol. I get a lot of comments about a potential love triangle (some of you scream no and some scream yes lol) but I will promise you all this: my goal with the romance in this trilogy is for it to compliment the plot and be part of the plot. Not to distract from it. And I truly think with how I think this story will go romance wise, you guys will like it. At least I hope so. :D

**GlassGazer: "Is it bad that I came for Zutara but like KatBo too?"** - Of course not! I actually take it as a huge compliment. I was always like that with the Pirates of the Caribbean movies. I loved the Elizabeth/Jack scenes and was cheering when they kissed. But I always wanted her to end up with Will. :D

**Guest: "I know this question is a little late, but I just noticed, is Hama based off of mags?"** - No, Iko was kind of based on Mags.

**Guest: "So I was wondering if you were ever going to address Zuko finding out about when Ozai "punished" Katara by whipping her in TRoO? "** - I don't have the scene planned, but I'm sure it will come up in the story.


	6. The Descent

**A/N:** So this chapter is a little shorter than usual, but that's because it got SUPER LONG and I had to cut it. Which means the next update will be quicker. :D Check out the bottom author's note for a new fic announcement! Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 6 - The Descent<strong>

Wordlessly, Zuko bends down and scoops me into his arms. I reach my right arm around his neck and clutch the front of his uniform with my left as he starts to run back to the facility.

"What," I choke out, "What's happening to me?"

"I don't know," says Zuko, sounding as confused as I feel. "We just need to get back."

We aren't far to begin with, and with the prince's speed, it's not long before we reach the factory. Two Equalists are stationed outside the entrance when we arrive. Their gazes are skyward and even though their masked, I know they must be as stunned as we are.

"Open the gate," orders Zuko.

Hesitating, one of the Equalists turns to look at him. "The Warden—"

"_Open the gate,_" Zuko repeats, colder this time. "Speak to no one and remain as you were. I will inform the Warden and she will decide on the next course of action."

I don't know if they recognize his voice, or if his authoritative tone is enough persuasion, but without another word, the Equalist's punch forward to open the gate. Zuko ducks under, and he's sprinting again. I bounce lightly in his arms as we pass confused Equalists and enter the cold chambers. He stops for nothing and no one. I think I can try to walk, but I'm so warm pressed against his chest that I decide to close my eyes instead and hang on.

I must doze off because what feels like seconds later I'm jolted awake when Zuko barges through the door to Command. It's nearly empty. Only Shai is here, fiddling with the screens and Watchers. One of them appears to be working, but I can't quite make out the pictures.

"Where is the Warden?" Zuko demands.

"The infirmary," Shai says slowly, rising to his feet. Then his eyes rest on me, still in the prince's arms. "Why? What's happened?"

Zuko ignores him. He sets me down in one of the chairs and tugs off my mask. His is already discarded, dangling from a hand. "I'm going to find her," he says to me. "Are you—"

"I'm fine," I assure him. "Just a little tired." Zuko looks at me as though he doesn't believe me, but I push him away. "Go. I'll tell Shai what we saw. You have to find the others."

Reluctantly, he finally nods and stands up. Once he's out the door, I lay my head down on the table and hug myself tightly, trying to keep myself from falling apart by the sudden gaping hole in my chest. Shai comes to my side, asking me questions I can barely hear. That sense of emptiness washes over me again and this time I don't resist the pull.

I close my eyes and fade away.

* * *

><p><em>Buzzing filters through my ears. Only it isn't insects, but arguing voices. My eyes slowly crack open and the world is tilted sideways. <em>

_ Then Toph looms over me, her eyes milky and wide. I think she's grinning. Is this a dream? "Rise and shine, Sweetness," she says._

_ The room silences. A moment later, another voice rings clear. "Is she awake?"_

_ I don't hear the answer. I'm already drifting into darkness._

* * *

><p><em> Sokka is here. He's young, probably eight or nine. I am, too. We're running through the snow and laughing, our faces wind burnt and red. I'm out ahead of him. I've always been a little faster. I turn around again, still laughing.<em>

_ "Come on, Sokka! Bet you can't catch me!"_

_ He bends over to catch his breath. "Slow down," he pants. "We're going too far."_

_ "No, we're not," I sing-song back to him. Then I take off running again._

_ "Katara, wait!" he calls after me._

_ "Gotta catch me first!"_

_ "We have to go back!"_

_ "I don't wanna go back!"_

* * *

><p><em> I shiver against the cold, only my body and face is on fire. <em>

_ "Drink this, Katara." _

_ Slowly, I open my mouth in time to feel something press against my lips. The warm liquid slides down my throat. I cough and sputter at the bitterness._

_ A hand presses to my cheek._

_ My mouth opens again, trying to formulate a question. But nothing comes out and I'm floating away before I can remember what I wanted to ask._

* * *

><p><em> The wind is coop and crisp, whipping my hair behind me. I tilt my head back, letting the sunlight warm my face. I feel free and alive, endless. When I open my eyes and glance to my left, I see Zuko staring at me across the distance. <em>

_ "Are you sure about this?" he says._

_ "Are you?" I answer back._

_ He turns and faces forward, the traces of a smile forming across his lips. Then he snaps his reigns lightly. _

_ He's flying._

_ I look down and realize I am, too._

* * *

><p><em> The square is crowded, the faces of victors staring back at me from upon the raised dais. The Fire Lord is asking for volunteers.<em>

_ I open my mouth. Nothing comes out. I try to take a step forward, but my feet are incased in ice. My hand stays fastened to my side. I can't move, can't speak. _

_ Can't volunteer. _

_ Hama! I try to cry out. Hama, Hama, Hama! _

_ She smiles at me sadly, as if she hears me calling her name. But it isn't her I need to hear me. It's the Fire Lord and no matter how hard I try, nothing comes out. A cannon blasts._

_ The victors—among them Hama and Pakku, still smiling at me sadly—go up in flames. _

_ My scream dies with them._

* * *

><p><em> "Wake up, Katara," a voice demands of me.<em>

_ "Be nice," another voice snaps, then drops to something softer. "Katara, please wake up. I need you to drink this. Katara?"_

_ I try to open my eyes. But when I do I don't see anything but blinding white light. It takes me a second to blink it away, and when my eyes finally focus on something real, it's Sokka._

_ And he's smiling at me._

_ "Sokka?" I croak. _

_ "Hey, Sis," he says. His voice sounds different, though I can't pinpoint what it is._

_ "My head hurts," I complain._

_ "It will get better."_

_ For some reason, I find myself believing him. I look around and realize I'm surrounded by blurs of green and blue, the colors swirling at my feet. Am I standing in water?_

_ I'm about to ask where we are, but suddenly I notice Sokka is dressed in his usual blue tunic, complete with heavy boots and a spear in hand._

_ "Did you catch anything?" I ask, nodding to the spear._

_ "Not yet," he says pleasantly. "But the day is still young."_

_ "Can I come with you?"_

_ Sokka's grin fades. "Not today," he says._

_ "Why not?"_

_ I blink and suddenly he's no longer holding a spear. He's not dressed in arctic blue anymore, either. He's wearing robes of white, the color blending to the floor he's standing on. Part of me realizes this should confuse me, but for some reason it doesn't._

_ "I want to come with you," I tell him instead._

_ "Not today," he says again. _

_ I find myself moving closer to him. His arms open and I melt into him, letting him pull me into a tight embrace. He feels so warm, so solid. So real._

_ "Am I…" my voice trails off. "Is this real?" _

_ "Does it matter?"_

_ I consider it, and then decide that it doesn't. "Can you stay?" I ask._

_ "No," he says sadly. "And neither can you."_

_ "I miss you." I hug him tighter to me. The overwhelming sense of loss seems to hit me hard all of the sudden, as if I've been immune to it until now. "I miss you so much."_

_ "I miss you, too," he says. "I'm so proud of you, Katara."_

_ "How can you say that," I whisper._

_ "You survived," he says. "Against all odds, you survived. It's all I wanted."_

_ "Please." My voice starts to shake. It's begun to rain, but the drops are in reverse, rising from the water into the sky. And I can't feel it. "Please don't leave me again."_

_ "I've never left you, Katara." Sokka pulls back and wipes the tears from under my eyes, the gesture so familiar. "I never will." _

_ He looks as though he wants to tell me something more. His jaw works, his mouth opening and closing. _

_ "What is it?" I ask._

_ His face starts to fade. _

_ "No!" The word tears from my throat. The rain is picking up. I reach out, but my fingers slide right through him, like I'm trying to hang on to water. "Sokka, wait!"_

_ His voice echoes through me, only it isn't just his voice. I hear a thousand voices, some familiar and some not, and it leaves me shuddering. _

_ "Wake up, Katara," they all say._

* * *

><p>Wake up.<p>

My eyes fly open and I jolt forward. Almost immediately a wave of nausea rolls through me and I close my eyes, hoping it will pass. It doesn't. I lean over to the side and vomit. It tastes acidic and burns my throat. I cough and gag until I feel like I lose a lung.

"Easy, Kat. Relax," I hear. I'm too light headed and nauseous to feel remotely embarrassed when I recognize the voice. Maybe later, when I've recovered and the room stops spinning.

I don't notice it until now, but I'm thankful for the hand in my hair, keeping it from my face because I have to vomit again. This time, my eyes have adjusted to the room—my tent—a little better and I see the stone basin next to my bed. I grab it in time.

When I finish, my stomach muscles relax and despite the burning in my throat, I feel emptied out and a little better. Silently, Bowen hands me a piece of cloth. I use it to wipe my mouth.

"Thank you," I say quietly.

I don't want to look, but I do anyway. Yeah, I missed the basin completely the first time. The embarrassment is slowly starting to catch up to me.

I sit the basin and cloth back on the floor. "Sorry you had to see that," I say, my cheeks flushing slightly.

"It might surprise you, but I've seen worse things," he says.

It doesn't. The teasing in his voice makes me feel a little better though.

"I kind of missed the basin the first time," I admit.

"Another surprise, your aim needs improvement." Bowen lets go of my hair. It falls down my back, wavy beneath my fingertips when I run my hands through the strands awkwardly. He stands up and says, "I'll get someone to clean it up."

My cheeks burn again. I try to tell him I can do it, but he's already ducking out the tent. I sigh and close my eyes.

I don't know the poor girl who comes in to clean my mess, but I thank her three times for it. Another woman brings me a fresh basin and water to gargle. She offers me fresh clothes and a bath, but I assure her I'm clean. As the girl wipes down the floor, bits of memories resurface, some more confusing than others. One thing I know for certain is that overwhelming sense of emptiness is still here.

I still have no bending.

The girl leaves, and I apologize and thank her again. I know I should ask Bowen about the crimson skies. I should ask what Thirteen is doing, if the people know what we saw, what our plan is next. But right now I don't care. I don't care about anything other than what I've lost.

"You don't have the Red Death," says Bowen.

"I know," I say. _It's worse than that._

"It could be worse, Kat," he says, as if hearing my thoughts. "You could be dying."

I look up at him, but for some reason my gaze slides past and around him.

"He's not hiding under your bed, if that's what you think," says Bowen.

I snap my attention back to his face. "Who?"

"_Who?_" Bowen repeats, shaking his head. He laughs slightly. "When he's not here, he's in Research."

I hadn't even realized I was looking for him until Bowen points it out. Jerk. "What's he doing in Research?" I ask.

Bowen's mouth quirks into a knowing smile, but he doesn't rub it in. Instead he moves toward the entrance of my tent. "Looking for answers," he says. "I'll tell him you're awake."

"I don't want to see him," I say. Bowen pauses, a hand holding up the flap of my tent. He turns and looks at me in confusion and opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off. "I don't want to see anyone."

"Why?"

"My bending is gone," I say hollowly. I pull my knees to my chest and hug them against me. "I just…I just want to be alone."

"Kat—"

"Please." I close my eyes. "Please just leave me alone, Bowen. All of you. I'll answer your questions, I'll do what the Warden asks, I'll tell you everything I know…but not right now. Not tonight."

Bowen is quiet so long I think he's left, but finally he just says, "All right."

I open my eyes and search his face. Pity swims in his eyes, something that usually bothers me but for some reason, right now it doesn't. "Sometimes you remind me of him," I say, my mouth muffled against my knees. To Bowen's lifted brow, I add, "My brother. Sokka."

His mouth lifts in one corner. "Except better looking, more charming, and—"

"Humble?" I offer.

"I love it when you compliment me."

I almost smile.

"You can't avoid everyone forever," he says, solemn and gentle. "Tomorrow, I'll have to tell the Warden you're awake."

"Traitor," I say, though I don't sound very accusing.

"In many ways," he says. And then he's gone.

The next morning, Asami greets me with a bowl of hot grain for breakfast. She offers me condolences that sound more assuring than the words actually make me feel. Then she tells me she will return in an hour to escort me to Command. I feel a sudden urge to strangle them all. But as Asami turns to leave, something new occurs to me, something horrible.

"Pakku," I choke out his name. "Did…does he…is he…?"

"Yes," says Asami, sounding reluctant. "His is gone, too."

I try to nod. The hollow pit in my chest seems to intensify and I'm glad I finished my breakfast. So many questions form in my mind, but I push them away, not wanting to deal with them. It takes me nearly the whole hour to bath and dress. I move slowly, as if trudging through heavy snows and weakened by the cold and fatigue. When Asami returns, I follow her to Command and try my best not to scream.

When we arrive, most of the White Lotus is here. When I don't see the face I'm searching for, I turn to the Warden at the head of the main table.

"Where's Pakku?" I ask.

"How are you feeling?" Ursa asks. Her eyes glow with sympathy.

"Fine," I lie. "Where's Pakku?" I ask again.

"He is still recovering," she says. "We've moved him to the infirmary."

"The _infirmary?_" I echo.

"Katara, please take a seat—"

"No," I say, unable to move. "No one moved me to the infirmary. Why him?"

Ursa glances at Asami, who takes her cue. She steps into my line of vision, forcing me to look at her. "Your chi is the energy that flows through your body," she says. "It's the root to your bending. Your body is trying to find a new way to energize itself, after your chi was zapped from the loss of bending. This explains your fatigue and inconsistent energy over the past few days. Due to Pakku's age and stamina, he is recovering more slowly."

"The infirmary allows us to place him in the care of healers who can monitor him all hours," says Ursa. "This will ensure his recovery."

I'm about to say I'm the only healer here, but the words die on my lips. I'm not a healer anymore. _I'm nothing._

I plop down into a chair at the table, dazed. Empty.

Ursa asks me questions and I struggle to remain focused. I recount the same story I know Zuko must have told—where is he? I can't place how his absence makes me feel. When Ursa asks about my bending, I fear she's going to ask me to try to do it. I'm thankful she doesn't. Theories of the crimson sky and connection to Pakku and I take up most of the conversation after my questioning. The wildest one I hear is that the Avatar has returned. Ursa orders no one to leave the facility until a public announcement is made. My mind remains unfocused and I miss what the announcement will say.

What snaps me out of my daze, however, is when there's a loud rapping at the door. Ursa slides on her mask and motions Asami to open it. A masked Equalist barges into the room and moves to Ursa's side quickly, leaning in close to speak quietly in her ear. Silently, she holds out her hand. The Equalist places a small scroll inside her palm; and then gives a bow and leaves.

"What is it?" asks Asami.

Ursa unrolls the document and pauses as she reads. Then she says, "Jeong Jeong and Piandao have been arrested." Her voice is calmly quiet. "They've been taken to the Boiling Rock."

"He knows who they are, then," says Shai.

"It was only a matter of time," says Ursa. She crumples the document and places her hands behind her back, deep in thought. The gesture is so reminiscent of Azula that I feel my breath catch. "The White Lotus is no longer viewed an empty threat. It appears we have his attention now."

"We aren't prepared for his attention," says Asami. She flips through the papers on her clipboard, shaking her head. "Our resources are low, we barely have enough food to sustain the year, the engines need fuel and the Red Death—"

"We are _safe_ here," says Ursa. Conviction laces her voice. "We will find areas to grow our food or we will create them, underground in our facility. Are we not benders? This plague has transformed this province to rot, but it will not defeat us." She looks at Asami then. "You have fought too hard to give into doubt."

"I apologize," says Asami, bowing her head. "I shouldn't…I will visit the laboratory and speak to Jin about—"

"I'll go," I say. Before anyone can suggest otherwise, I leave the room, willing for an escape.

I don't immediately go to the garden. Instead I walk without real purpose or destination in mind, only with the desire to go somewhere I can hide to avoid talking to anyone. Two members of the White Lotus have been captured. How the Fire Lord found out they were members is a mystery to me, but something worth considering.

Finally I wind up in the garden. There's a tangy, medicinal smell that wafts over me. Jin isn't here. Maybe she's in the dining hall or taking a bath. I decide to wait here, motivation and energy slipping away from me. I slide down next to a crate of ink bottles and curl up against it.

* * *

><p>Something wakes me. A shake against my shoulders. I blink away the sleep until a fuzzy image hovers above me. A girl. Bright green eyes, two messy braids and dirt smudged cheeks. Jin.<p>

"Sorry," I mumble. My neck aches from the position I've been in for who knows how long. "I was looking for you."

Jin bends down so that we're eye to eye. "Are you in pain?"

A sound somewhere between a sob and a laugh escapes me. "I'm not dying," I say, thinking of Bowen's words. "They want to harvest and grow our own food below ground. Can you do it?"

"The soil is too sick," she says. "It must be cleansed." With that discouragement, she gets up and moves to her stations.

I just lay here, pressed against the crate, and watch her work as she hums a soft lullaby: scribble against parchment, snip and cut up herbs, pour colored liquids into vials, mix creams into jars. She spends a great deal of time working on a substance she says will create an explosion. I tell her not to test it while I'm here.

_It must be cleansed._

Bowen finds me hours later, still curled up against the crate. Jin covers her ears when he enters, but doesn't scream at him or throw things. He shoots me an exasperated look as he helps me stand, putting an arm around my waist to support my weight. He opens his mouth to speak, but I cut him off.

"Leave her be," I say to him.

Reluctant, he does, and we make our way back. I tell him I just want to sleep and despite the argument I can see forming in his eyes, he takes me back to my tent.

* * *

><p>I dream of his voice and a hand pressed against my cheek. But when I open my eyes, I see an Equalist in full uniform. Their hand withdraws to rip off their mask.<p>

Zuko. A feeling—something like anger— rises up inside me when I see him, but curiosity overrides it. What's he doing here so late? And where has he been?

I almost demand an excuse. He almost gives me one.

What he offers me, however, is better. It's reality, something I've tried to protect myself from lately. He says nothing. Instead he hands me a battered picture. I smooth it out and it takes me a second to realize it's a poster, a decree from the Fire Lord. A memory pricks at my mind. I've seen something familiar before.

But this one is me. My face, my name.

_Wanted Alive—Katara of Province 9. Sixteen years old. This fugitive is a victor of the 75__th__ Annual Black Games and a skillful Waterbender. Wanted for rebellious activity and traitorous crimes against the Capital. Any information regarding the fugitive is to be reported to a Head Guard. One thousand gold pieces will be rewarded to the capturer and five hundred gold pieces rewarded to their province. Permission to kill on sight: Denied. _

I can't rip my eyes away from it. There's more information, details about my appearance, like the scar that runs across my throat and the one Suki gave me across my cheek.

_A skillful Waterbender._

"Where did you get this?" I ask, stifling back a sob.

Zuko ignores my question. "I haven't showed the White Lotus yet," he says. "I thought you should see first."

This courtesy is worth more than an excuse or an apology. If I didn't feel like I've just been shoved off a cliff, I might have smiled at him. "One thousand gold pieces," I whisper. "Five hundred to the capturer's province."

"Currency makes monsters out of men," says Zuko. "Your biggest supporters will turn you in for a bit of gold."

"That's more than a _bit_," I say. I'm almost tempted to turn myself over if it meant five hundred pieces went to Nine. "The others?"

"Pakku," says Zuko. "And Bowen."

I can imagine Bowen's reaction now. _"Well," _he will say,_ "there must be a mistake. I am certainly worth more gold pieces than that."_

I wonder how many provinces the posters are posted in and how old they are. It can't be too recent, for me to be...to be listed as a Waterbender. The thought leaves me colder than ever.

Unless the Fire Lord doesn't know. Unless only a selected number of benders has been affected. How many days or weeks has my dad seen me painted as a criminal? Will they torture him for answers? How many provinces will the Fire Lord burn to ash to find us?

To stifle a scream, I reach up to ball a fist into my mouth, but Zuko catches it and squeezes tightly. He bends down to my level.

"Katara," he says gently, and that voice stills me completely. It tells me there is more, that the posters are just the beginning. I force myself to look at him, preparing for the deathblow. "Tell me," I demand.

His jaw clenches and he fights indecision.

"_Tell me_."

And because Zuko has always treated me as though I'm strong, he does. "The Capital has evacuated Province 9," he says.

"To where?" My voice shakes. _This isn't happening_. "Where is my dad?"

Somehow I know the answer before he says it.

"I don't know."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Thanks for reading! Review responses will be posted in a few days. Also I wanted to give an update on future stories and a new fic. After this story, I will probably be writing Dark Side of the Moon, my Zutara/Mulan AU. After that, I'm currently in the early stages of outline a Game of Thrones inspired ATLA/LoK fic. Yikes, I'm nervous about that one. I can't get the idea out of my head though and I love Game of Thrones. So here I am. Some things to note:

- It will be told in multiple POV in third person.

- It is based loosely off the show rather than the book.

- It doesn't have a title yet, but I'm leaning toward "A Song of Dragons and Wolves." Feel free to leave me suggestions, haha.

- Brace yourselves. Winter is coming.

Review Responses:

**Tophlet: "What I love is that you do such a great job of expressing their frustrations and disappointments in each other while preserving that underlying fondness." -** Thank you! I think there's a delicate balance between the ups and downs of their relationship. Zuko and Katara aren't perfect, and I love that they challenge one another and don't see the other for only the light; they see the shadows too and understand them.

**Valiant Lies: "I have read The Black Games and The Rise of One in under 24 hours, and I worked for eight of those."** - That's pretty intense! haha I'm glad you liked them enough to zip through. :D

**jul1i3oh: "Katara' s dad? -** More on him next chapter!

**"Blood bending"** - There will be bloodbending, yes. :D

**kt96: "For some reason i have trouble visualising how Bowen looks like"** - I used Photoshop on a graphic and got close to what I pictured. It's posted on my profile page, I believe. The hair isn't quite how I imagined but close. Try looking up "Noctis Final Fantasy" and you'll get the kind of hair I imagined. :P I'm glad you enjoyed the romance, too! :)

**Me Bored inc: "How did your writing style develop, what inspired you to start writing?"** - Firstly, thank you for your lovely comment and review. *hugs* I'm not really sure how my style developed. This might sound weird, but I don't feel like I have a style? I just write the way that feels natural I guess, lol. The more I write and read, the easier it gets. The inspiration to write fanfiction happened a few years ago when I decided I hated how Harry Potter and the Half Blood prince ended. I also wanted to explore a Hermione/Draco relationship in that book. So I decided to write my own version of book 6 in Hermione's POV with a Dramione spin. (It's called Changing Fate) I honestly don't remember how I discovered fanfiction to begin with though. :P

**enddewhirst: "The romantic in me just hopes there is more lovey dovey action between Katara and Zuko, wink wink ;)"** - Lol well, I will say there's one scene coming up in the near future that I think is the most romantic of any in the whole trilogy. :D

Q&A (The next will be when chapter 10 is posted)

**For Zuko**

"How did you feel when Katara finally disarmed you?" - Proud

"Do you think you can ever forgive your mother?" - I don't know.

" Can you please kiss Katara again?" - Uhh...

**For Katara**

"I realize you're all down in District 13 right now and it not the easiest place to pamper yourself at, but who has better hair, Prince Zuko, Bowen or Asami?" - Don't tell Bowen, but probably Asami.

"what is the best part of training with Zuko?" - He pushes me and makes me stronger.

"would you like to learn more about your healing and bloodbending abilities with waterbending?" - Yes, I would.

**For Bowen**

"What is your favorite thing about Katara?" - Her faith.


	7. Lunar Eclipse

**A/N:** Whew, this was a toughy. Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7 - Lunar Eclipse<strong>

I don't react immediately. In fact, I don't react at all. My mind just…blanks. Freezes up, like the long winters in Nine. It's a long moment before it starts working again. And when it does, everything floods back to me all at once: I am a wanted fugitive. Province 9 has been evacuated. My bending is gone. My people are gone. Dad is all I have left and now he's gone, too. He could be dead, his body left frozen in the snow. He could be imprisoned, being beaten for knowledge he knows nothing of, tortured for the things I have done.

A memory resurfaces suddenly, a memory of a raging fire behind a cold voice.

_It always amuses me when law breakers plead to avoid death, for they forget that often times living is the worst punishment of all. Perhaps you, like him, will learn that same lesson._

For a brief moment, I feel numb. I feel my life descending into a darkness that has no escape. Every fear, every worry, every loss, boils and boils inside me and suddenly I can't breathe. I start gasping, my body shaking uncontrollably as I struggle, hyperventilating. I'm drowning in a sea of darkness with no way to float to the top.

I hear Zuko's voice as if from above the water. I think he's telling me to breathe, but I can't. I'm too panicking now, trembling. Memories of the cannons echo in my ears, over and over.

"He's gone," I gasp. "Everything is gone and I—"

And then I catch my breath and all I can do is scream. I scream, and scream, and scream, until Zuko yanks me close and my mouth bites into his shoulder, stifling me. I shudder and his arms tighten harder than he's ever held me, crushing me against him, as if he can somehow transfer my pain to him. He makes a soothing _shushing_ sort of sound, and in his voice I hear my dad. Or maybe it's Sokka.

Someone, an Equalist, hears my screams and checks to make sure everything is okay. _It's not_, I want to say. _It's not okay and I don't know what to do_.

Zuko just holds me for what feels like a long time, and finally my breathing levels out and I'm no longer shaking. I can breathe again. It isn't the hand in my hair or the warmth of his body that calms me. It's the rhythm of his heartbeat against my ear, the sound of something steady and reassuring. I focus on that and nothing else. Slowly, I see a sliver of light in the dark, a burning flame of hope that refuses to be doused.

"We…we have to find him," I finally manage. "And the others. We have to find them all."

"We will," Zuko vows, so firmly that I believe him. "Tomorrow morning I'll inform the Warden."

I lean back—the heat stays with him, leaving me suddenly so cold—and look at the prince, my eyes wide. My fingers dig into the front of his uniform. "We have to go to her _now_," I urge.

"It's the middle of the night," says Zuko calmly. I open my mouth, but he rushes on before I can protest. "We don't know where they are and even if we did, there's nothing we can do right now."

My panic and fear begins to turn into something else, something ugly. "Since when are you so patient?" I nearly snap.

"Since I learned the value of patience."

"My dad is gone," I say flatly. "What if they destroy my home? I can't…I can't just wait for that to happen."

I push back completely and rip my blankets off, debating if I have time to change out of my sarashi and into my uniform. Zuko glances away more out of respect than embarrassment. Privacy is something we learned to give up in the Games.

"Even if you did know where he was, then what?" says Zuko.

I stare at the back of his head as if the answer is obvious. "I'll rescue him," I say. Uniform, I decide, thinking of the chilly corridors at night. I stand and slide into my pants, pulling them up over my sarashi.

"The Warden has ordered all of us to remain inside."

"I'll sneak out."

"Sure." I can hear the doubt in his voice. "How would you get there?"

"I'll…" I hesitate a half second. "I'll fly on Appa."

"The sky bison the Guards saw you flee the Capital on? That won't draw attention when you return on him."

I pause, and then yank the top of my uniform over my head. My fingers fumble with the buttons. "I'll take an air balloon then," I say.

"Oh yeah?" Zuko turns to face me, remaining annoying patient. "How are you going to fly it?"

"I'll figure it out," I snap at him, reaching for my boots.

"You going to become a Firebender while you're at it? They need one to fly."

I whirl around, furious. "Good thing I'm looking at one! Here's an idea for you…I'll knock you out, drag you with me, and force you to steer the balloon. If you don't cooperate, I'll turn _myself_ over to the Fire Lord and tell him exactly where he can find you. How does that sound?"

Zuko stands up and crosses his arms. "It sounds like a lot of work."

I throw my hands into the air. "You're unbelievable! Why won't you just help me?" I cry out desperately.

"I'm _trying_ to help you," he says, sounding frustrated for the first time. "You don't even know where they are. The last thing you want to do is run around blindly with a target on your back, waiting for the Capital to notice."

"Don't tell me what I want!"

"You're thinking with your heart and not your mind—a quick way to get yourself and your father killed." I halt by the flap of the tent, letting his words sink in. "After we figure out where your people are, we can come up with a rescue plan," Zuko goes on. "Plus your bending still has to be restored."

It's like the floor vanishes from beneath me and I'm plummeting again. That sense of loss I've kept at bay swallows me again.

"It's gone," I say, my voice hollow and cracking. _They're all gone._

"Maybe not. I think—"

"I can _feel_ it, Zuko. There's nothing left. I've lost the one thing that was _mine_, that belonged to me. I'm…I'm nothing now." The words slip out unwillingly and I hang my head, hating myself, hating the Fire Lord, hating everything that's happened to me and the rest of the world. We've lost too much.

The prince hesitates, and then he reaches out and tips my chin up, forcing me to look at him. A thousand emotions flash in his eyes and his jaw is tight with strain.

"You have never been nothing, Katara," he says. The gentleness in his tone completely contradicts the intensity in his gaze. "And you never will be. You _are_ water. When you reach a dead end, you always find a way around it."

I smile weakly at his warming words. "I just don't see a way around this," I whisper.

Zuko reaches into his uniform and there's a flash of silver. I feel the hilt of a dagger tap lightly against my chest, against my heart. I glance down. I gasp anyway, even though I know the feel of this particular dagger, the dagger I plunged into his heart. I don't even have to look closer to remember the words etched onto the blade.

_Never give up without a fight._

How…? Why? I can't bring myself to say anything, can't do anything other than gently wrap my fingers around the hilt.

As if he can hear my questions, he says, "It's always belonged to you."

I stare at him, unblinking. It isn't until he leaves that I consider his words might contain a double meaning.

* * *

><p>I take Zuko's advice to wait until morning and struggle falling back to sleep. My head is swimming with too much information and too many questions. Did Iroh send Zuko his dagger and my wanted poster? Has Zuko been leaving Thirteen? How much contact does the Warden keep with Iroh? What's happening to other members of the Order?<p>

I barely get any sleep and soon the fires from the Firebenders light up the cavern outside my tent, signaling a new day. I dress quickly and skip breakfast, heading straight to Command. To my surprise, Toph stops me before I can reach the stairs. I'm too stunned to see her up so early that I just stare at her.

"Take me with you," she says.

"What?"

"When you leave, take me with you."

I hesitate. "I don't know what you're talking about," I say.

"You're a horrible liar," she says, "and an even worse whisperer. I heard plenty between you and Sifu Hotman last night."

_Sifu Hotman?_ He'd kill her if he heard that!

"Were you spying on me?" I ask, suspicious and annoyed.

"It's not spying when I can hear you in my tent. I can't help it if my hearing is superior and you're as loud as a platypus bear."

My face heats up. "Look, I honestly don't know what you're talking about. Now if you'll excuse me," I try to step around her, but she flicks her wrist and I walk straight a wall of earth. I stumble back, scowling. "Ow!"

Toph releases the earth back to the ground and punches a finger at me. "Do you think I don't know who she is anyway?" she snaps out quietly. "Fire Lady, ring a bell?"

I glance around hastily, but no one seems to have heard. "How did you—"

"I told you before," she cuts in. "I have a strong seismic sense. I can see where everything is with my feet. _And_ I might have overheard a conversation or two."

"You mean you were spying again," I say flatly.

"Call if whatever you want," she says with a wave of her hand. "The point is, you're gonna need my help."

Maybe she's right. But Toph has made it clear now that she has freedom, she has no interest in fighting the Capital. She calls it a suicide mission, says Thirteen can't possibly win with an army of imbeciles and dying weaklings. Self-preservation has always been her first priority, even in the Games. But I know she must care a little bit, because she _did_ agree to train the Earthbenders.

I cross my arms. "I didn't think you were interested in anything other than your freedom."

"Maybe I'm bored," she says.

"Or maybe there _is_ a selfless and noble bone somewhere in your body."

She grumbles something incomprehensible.

"How about a friend doing another friend a favor, then?" I ask.

"I guess you can look at it that way," she says reluctantly, shrugging.

"Thanks, Toph." I smile at her briefly. She's not as selfish as she pretends to be. "But they're not going to let you into Command."

"I don't care about that boring stuff," she says, throwing her hand in the air. She starts heading back to her tent, probably to sleep. "Get me when we can start having some _real_ fun."

I shake my head, exasperated, and then head to Command. Two Equalists are stationed outside when I arrive. Which means the Warden is inside.

They must recognize me, because one of them opens the door and I slip inside. Ursa doesn't even look up from where she stands hovering over the table, maps and documents spread across the surface. I briefly wonder where Zuko is, if he's been here or not. In my mind, I plan to firstly bring up Toph, tell Ursa I have someone who can help us, but what comes out of my mouth is something different, something more pressing. The reason I'm here.

"Province 9 has been evacuated and my dad is missing," I blurt out.

"Yes, I am aware," she says calmly, peering up at me. "If the Capital is evacuating provinces, we need to know why."

I can't help it. A stab of resentment and anger floods through me. It must show on my face, because her expression softens.

"You must remember my first priority must be to my people, Katara."

"You were Fire Lady once. _Everyone_ is your people."

"Thirteen is my home now." The sadness in her voice melts some of my anger. "I have sworn to protect them. I must always look at the bigger picture." She moves from around the corner to stand beside me. She touches my arm gently and there's a soft tenderness in her eyes. "I am deeply sorry, Katara. We do not have the resources or numbers to rescue and house an entire province. Not yet."

The bigger picture. Our future. She's talking about Zuko.

Protecting Thirteen and ensuring Zuko takes the throne before it's too late are the top priorities of the Order. Every decision Ursa makes revolves around their mission. A year ago, I might not have understood. I do now, even though it hurts so much my chest feels like its ripping open.

"So you're going to do nothing," I whisper.

"I did not say that," she says. Her lips turn up into a hesitate smile. "I will write to other members of the Order. We will locate your father and your people. As long as it does not put us entirely at risk or jeopardize our location, we will do everything in our power to bring him here."

Relief floods through me and I want to cry. "Really?"

"It's the least I can do," she says softly. "You saved someone I love dearly. I'd like to do the same for you."

_I wish I hadn't killed someone you love dearly._

Ursa moves back to the table and takes a seat. Then she dips a brush into an ink bottle, and begins to write across a piece of parchment. "I expected you sooner," she admits. "Zuko was here over an hour ago."

"I got held up," I say, fighting my surprise. "He told you about my province?"

Ursa nods. "He offered to lead your father's rescue mission." She glances up from her document, warmth in her eyes. "I told him the risk was too great and advised against it."

He wanted to lead the rescue himself? I nod at Ursa, but my voice comes out a little high pitched. "I understand."

"I know," she says. "He does as well. He is choosing to disregard my advice." To my surprise, Ursa's lips turn up slightly. "As I expected."

"He tends to do that," I say and we both share a smile. "Will you stop him?"

Ursa doesn't answer right away. "It's too early to say," she says finally, whatever that means. "Zuko requested you wait for him here. There's something he wants to show the Order. I called for an early meeting."

I'm about to ask more questions when Asami comes in, followed shortly by Shai. She's carrying a small tray of food and a steaming cup of tea.

"I noticed you weren't at breakfast," she says, placing the tray on the table. "I wanted to make sure you had something to eat."

"Thank you," I say, surprised by her kindness. It's a simple meal of hot grain and toasty bread. I take note in the lack of fruit, knowing we are running scarcely low.

Bowen arrives next, still looking half asleep, his dark hair falling messily across his forehead. I ask about Pakku, but I'm told he's still tired and weak. I can only imagine how grumpy and irritating he is, coped up in the infirmary. I smile at the thought, telling myself to visit him later.

I'm finished with breakfast when Zuko arrives, carrying a handful of scrolls and prints. He lays them on the table wordlessly, spreading them out so we can see. Bowen leans closer toward one of the prints: a collection of stars and moons and the sun.

"I fail to see why astronomy calls for a meeting at this hour," says Bowen, yawning.

Zuko ignores him. "A lunar eclipse," he says, pointing toward one of the moons.

"What?" Ursa and I say in unison.

He lays out more drawings, long texts on weather patterns and the phases of the moon. "What's happening outside is a lunar eclipse," he says. Then he turns to me. "That's why your bending is affected."

"Because the moon is," I say quietly. It makes sense now, though only partially. "But this has never happened before."

"It can't be an ordinary lunar eclipse," says Asami. She takes a seat and starts to scribble away on a piece of parchment.

"No," Zuko agrees. "They aren't supposed to last more than a few hours."

"And this one has lasted for several days now," says Bowen, now sounding fully awake. "The entire sky doesn't turn into a bloody mess either."

I see one or two lunar eclipses a year, where the moon will sometimes take on a pink tint, but I've never seen anything like this. And I've never lost bending during an eclipse.

I can't help it though. Despite my doubt, I feel a sliver of hope. "So maybe once it passes, I'll be able to bend again," I say, trying to contain my optimism.

Zuko nods, a small smile playing at his lips. "Just like how Firebenders had no bending during the Day of Black Sun. It came back once the solar eclipse passed."

It takes everything in me not to throw my arms around him, for giving me this hope to cling to. I feel such relief that I let out a long sigh, sitting back further in my seat.

"How long was the Day of Black Sun again?" asks Asami.

Zuko hesitates. "Eight minutes."

I feel myself slowly start to deflate, but only slightly. No, there's still hope. This eclipse can't last forever. It has to pass, right?

"This is more than a lunar eclipse," says Bowen, playing with a dagger in his hand.

"Then what is it, since you have so many ideas?" Zuko snaps.

"I didn't say it _wasn't_ a lunar eclipse—"

"What's causing it is the question now," says Ursa, easing through the tension. "I agree with Bowen: there is more to the eclipse, something we don't yet know. Our correspondences might know more, but we cannot act until then."

"Are we assuming this is the Fire Lord's doing?" asks Shai. "Or a natural disaster of sorts?"

The thought leaves me a little breathless. I reach up and brush the pendant at my throat, as if it can give me comfort.

"Even the Fire Lord's power has limits," says Ursa. She rubs her eyes tiredly and I wonder, for the first time, how much she actually sleeps. "The eclipse and the evacuation of Nine could be unrelated. He has no reason to eliminate Waterbenders when they can be of use to him."

Zuko crosses his arms. "But why evacuate them and send more Guards to Nine?" he says.

I snap my head to him. "You didn't tell me that."

"And how do you know this?" says Asami. She doesn't seem to like others knowing more than she does, even when we're all on the same side. Too many years of being second in command I guess.

Zuko ignores us both and says, "I checked the history books in Research, looking for a past event that was similar to this eclipse. I found nothing except the Comet, and that affected Firebenders."

"So this time it's a lunar eclipse," I cut in. "Maybe something more. Maybe some wondrous, once every hundred years phenomenon. What about my dad?"

But no one has an answer for that. Not for another week, when we receive a letter from Iroh. He doesn't know what the Fire Lord's plan is, only that those in Nine who didn't resist or fight the Guards during evacuation were taken as prisoners.

They were sent to various prisons in the Fire Provinces: The Capital City Prison in One. The Ember Prison in Two. The Rig in Three. The Black Keep in Five. And the worse one of all, the Boiling Rock.

* * *

><p>A few days later, they confine me to the infirmary. Not in the quarantine section of the infirmary, but the main room where the injured are tended to. Cots are spread throughout the room with curtains on wheels surrounding each one to give privacy. Pakku is released now, so even he can't keep me company.<p>

They tell me they want to monitor my health and test my bending. I know that's not the only reason, otherwise Pakku would still be here. They don't want me doing something reckless, like trying to find my dad, while they wait for more information. After my outburst when I found out my dad's locked in a prison—or dead, if he resisted—I can see why the Warden is taking an extra precaution with me. I became violent and out of control, so much that I didn't even recognize myself. Ursa blames the eclipse, saying without my bending I've become imbalanced emotionally and mentally, as well as physically. So here I am now, a test subject.

I consider fighting them and escaping, but I don't have the energy, especially when I know they're right. Even if I did escape, searching every prison across the Fire provinces is not an option. It's impossible. We'll have to find my dad's location before we do anything else. If I cooperate and maintain control, I know they'll release me from here.

I try to bend and fail. Every day, I fail. I keep telling myself it's the lunar eclipse, that once it passes, my bending will return and the mood swings will end. I refuse to let myself believe it's permanent.

Toph visits me a few times, mostly to complain about her jobs. I tell her she'd be better off on her own in the woods, where she had no one but herself to care for since she's so selfish. She hasn't visited me since. Zuko came once, only to tell me he won't come again unless it's important. I've only been here four days, and so far, nothing. I keep his dagger tucked in my boot, where the healers don't see. I still look for him at the door, and every night when he hasn't come, I hide my disappointment. Whether it's because I wanted to see him or I wanted to hear something important, I don't know. Both, probably.

Riya usually brings me my meals and today, Jin comes with her. I'm so happy to see her out of the garden that I momentarily forget everything else.

"How are you?" I ask her, once Riya goes back to the kitchen to make more tea.

Jin looks around nervously. "Is it always so cold?"

"Not always," I say. "It's just not as warm here as the garden."

"Have you left yet?"

It takes me a second to realize what she means. "No, I haven't been assigned to Resource. I don't think any of us can leave for a while."

"Oh." Her face falls slightly. "I wanted to help."

"Find a way to break through iron bars," I muse.

"Blasting jelly," says Jin pleasantly.

I look at her sharply. "What?"

"It will break through anything." She tugs on one of her braids. "I…created it myself."

Suddenly I remember the bombs that went off in the arena when the Equalists saved Zuko and Pakku from it. "Did you create the smoke bombs, too?" I ask.

She nods slowly. "I make things."

I sit up a little higher in my bed. Those in Weaponry Advancement must use Jin's formulas and blueprints to create more of her inventions. "What else do you make?"

She grins, a mysterious and secretive sort of grin, like a child wishing to tell a secret. "Come and see," she mouths wordlessly.

I almost jump out of bed when I remember reality. I have to cooperate for my dad. "I can't right now," I force myself to say. "But I will as soon as I'm allowed. Until then, can you work on some blasting jelly for me?"

She nods just as the infirmary doors open. I expect to see Riya, but it's Bowen carrying the tray of tea. It's an image that jars me, so uncharacteristic of him. Jin flinches closer to me when she sees him coming toward us.

"What is it?" I ask. "Why do you hate him so much? He's my friend, Jin."

"He'll let you die, too," she whispers. "Just like her. Like…like Mira."

Bowen must have heard, because he halts completely. Then Jin practically runs from the infirmary, covering her face as she cries.

"What does that mean?" I ask him, bewildered. But Bowen just stares at the door, an empty expression on his face. "What's going on?" I snap, feeling anger rising in me.

"I know who she is now," he says quietly.

"What are you talking about?"

Bowen sets the tray down on my bedside table, and then takes a seat at the end of my bed. He rubs his face tiredly, the gesture looking pained. "Do you remember the girl I was paired up with when I was in the Games?"

It's been six years since his year, and most of the tributes have blurred together since then. Except for this year. I don't think I'll ever forget any of them.

"Not really," I admit.

"She was a non-bender," says Bowen. He stares straight ahead, as if seeing something distant. "She was a few years older than me, too nice for the Games. Shared her food with me. I think she felt sorry I was so young. A pair of Fire tributes found us one night. She was decapitated. I could have stopped it, but I knew…I knew she had to die anyway."

I place my hand on his arm and squeeze, fighting the tears in my eyes. I know the feeling all too well, the guilt that never leaves you. I remember now, vaguely, except I closed my eyes when I realized what was about happen, when I saw the blade sawing the girl's throat. Bowen had seen it all though. He had been there.

"Her name was Mira," Bowen says quietly. "And she had a younger sister."

He's silent after that, long enough for me to put it all together. "Jin," I whisper.

Bowen nods, looking lost. "I knew she looked familiar, but I could never place it. Not until she said her name."

No wonder Jin is so traumatized every time she sees Bowen. It triggers the memory of seeing her sister decapitated. She had to be ten or eleven when it happened.

_He'll let you die, too. _

"You didn't let her die, Bowen," I say gently.

"I did though." He looks at me, his eyes filled with pain. "I had my daggers. I didn't need her, or anyone anymore. So I ran, even when she called for me to help her."

I take a deep breath. "Do you think we'll ever forgive ourselves for the things we've done?" I ask quietly. "For the things we'll _do_?"

He doesn't answer right away and we fall into a comfortable silence. There are only two others in beds, minor ankle and arm injuries. I watch the healers tend to them, almost in trance. Next to me, I see Bowen watching too, welcoming the distraction.

"I don't know," he says finally. "I don't know if we deserve to."

Maybe he's right. Maybe we don't deserve forgiveness.

We share the pot of tea and I fight the ache in my chest at seeing the liquid, wishing with all my heart that I could bend it. I think about Jin again, about how so little I really know of her. The thought leaves me feeling guilty, and a little curious. Jin knew her sister, so she must have been born in Six and transferred here with her father. But why, and how many years ago? Asami told me her father and Zei oversaw Thirteen. I know Asami's father built weapons and machines, but what did Zei do? And what happened to him?

Ursa would have searched all of Professor Zei's belongings, and even questioned Jin, but she wouldn't have pushed someone so fragile. What if Jin has information the Order could use, information she's kept protected? Maybe even, if I dare hope as much, plans on evacuations of provinces? It's a long shot, but it's the only one I have. I can't sit here another second, doing nothing but losing my mind while we wait for more information.

_Come and see._

"I need you to get me out of here," I say to Bowen. "I think we need to pay Jin a visit."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** As always I can't thank you enough for waiting for waiting. Right now my updates are about once a month, but I'm really trying to do twice a month. That's my goal! I hope you enjoyed the chapter. :D

Review Responses

**yoghurtfordinner: "GUUURL, YOU HAVE ACTUALLY MADE ME WANT TO READ THEM"** - That's awesome! Such a great compliment and I definitely hope you give them a shot. The first book was my favorite in the series. :D Your review was also very sweet and I really appreciate the kind words.

**MirrorImage003: "Will we ever get to see Appa before the series ends?"** - Yes!

**"It makes their dynamic so much more realistic and solemn. At the same time, I still sort of squeal whenever Katara and Bowen have a moment** " - I'm so glad you enjoy the Zutara dynamics here. I really wanted to capture that sort of silent understanding, so I'm glad it comes through. And I do like writing the Bowen/Katara moments too. :D He has chemistry with everyone it seems like, haha.

**WilhelminaCG: "I was wondering, do all Watertribe people feel it, to a degree, or does it effect only waterbenders directly?"** - In this fic, only the waterbenders feel it.

**jerzas: "I remember that in an author's note in Rise of One you said there would be a love triangle of sorts... is that still on or not?"** - I'm planning on it, yes. Though remember, "of sorts" is definitely true in this case. It's not what you expect.

**Guest: "You are possibly one of my favorite author's on this site. I don't usually read first person POV (because it can read really juvenile) but your writing is just too good."** - Aw thank you hun! I'm so glad you're enjoying it. I usually stay away from first person too, though it's grown on me through the years. :P Glad you like it in this trilogy though! Writing Katara in first person is one of my biggest insecurities. It's very tough!

**EbunnyLove: "I have a question. In Rise od One it was Ursa who slit Katara's throat right?**" - No, it wasn't actually! :P When Katara sees the picture of Amun Ra, Zuko asks if that's who she saw, and she wrote "no" on the notepad.

**Ugly Sobbing: "I look forward to the next update and your new fics! I love mulan and I love Game of Thrones "** - Yay! I'm excited too. Though nervous because GoT is a beast of a story to try to retell.


	8. A New Team

**A/N:** Happy holidays everyone! This would have been done earlier, only I didn't have much time the past few days to finish. :P Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8 - A New Team<strong>

I don't know what strings Bowen pulls, but he gets me out of the infirmary the next morning. But on two conditions: I agree not to do anything reckless and check back in the infirmary each evening after dinner for an examination.

"Maybe you should wait out here," I say to Bowen, once we reach the doors to the garden. He doesn't respond, which surprises me enough that I turn to look at him. He appears deep in thought, staring down the corridor. This situation has rattled him more than I realized. "If she's okay with it, you can come inside. Wait for my call, okay?" I say. This time he nods, his lips tightly pressed together.

I push open the doors, fighting a growl in my stomach. Bowen got me out early this morning and I didn't bother to stop for breakfast. "Riya? Jin?" I call out. Jin's head pops up from underneath one of the tables. Her usual braids are loose, like she slept in them. "What are you doing down there?"

"Looking," she says, then disappears again. I walk over to the table covered in drawings: plants and flowers I don't recognize, recipes that look far from medicinal. White Jade? Root of Death? I pick one up, studying it.

"Is this your drawing?" I ask. Jin snatches it from my hand but doesn't answer. She continues her search on the ground, scrutinizing the floor as if she were counting the cracks.

"Looking for this?" The voice comes from the doorway and I whirl around, furious at him for not waiting, furious I didn't hear the door open. Bowen holds up what looks like a tattered brown book, the binding loose and pages stuffed together.

Jin scrambles out from underneath the table so fast she knocks over one of the stools. "You!" she gasps. "You—leave!"

But Bowen doesn't move. Jin reaches behind her blindly, her fingers settling on an inkle bottle. She launches it at Bowen, the same way she had when he first visited. Expecting it this time, he ducks away with ease, and it crashes into the door behind him. Black ink drips down the metal like black blood.

"You stole it, you thief!" Jin yells. She grabs the stool the same time I grab her arm to stop her.

"I found it and wish to return it to you," he says. Jin hesitates, long enough that I'm able to pry her fingers away from the stool. Bowen cautiously steps forward, as if approaching a frightened child. Then he sets the book down on the table. I stare at him, trying to figure out what he's playing at.

Jin snatches up the book and clutches it to her chest, as if it were something very dear to her heart. "You are a liar." Her large green eyes fill with tears. "You are no friend. You are a coward."

Bowen's jaw tightens, whether out of anger or hurt, I don't know. "I deserve that," he admits.

Jin's eyes widen in surprise. I want to tell him he doesn't, but that bitter, dark side of me that will never forget he mentored Jet keeps me silent. It's unfair and even cruel, but sometimes I want to see him hurt, even if he's my friend, because I can't forget Jet and Sokka. What kind of friend have I become?

"But I know what it's like to lose someone you love," Bowen goes on softly. "And I am truly sorry for your loss, for not doing something when I could have."

Our eyes meet and I know we're thinking the same thing. Jin doesn't understand. No one who hasn't been a tribute can. As guilty as we feel, the things we did—and didn't do—are the reason we're here. We lost some of our humanity, we will never be the same, but we are _alive_. We're still working on the living part. Isn't it funny, that I can be alive but not really live? Maybe someday I'll be able to step outside and watch the ocean's tide without a fear or care in the world. I'll be able to stand there as long as I like, watching the snow fall, seeing the sun poke out behind the clouds and warm my face…

Jin is quiet for a long time, staring at a point across the room so intensely that I find myself wondering what she sees. "Why are you here?" she whispers finally.

"Katara wanted to ask you some questions, if that's okay," says Bowen. I expect him to request to stay, but to my surprise, he tells me he'll meet me later and with a bow, disappears from the room.

Jin keeps her eyes trained on the door, her hands clenched and tense, as if anticipating his return.

"He's gone," I assure her. Jin doesn't seem to be listening though, and it's several minutes before she gathers herself. She tucks the book under her arm, disappearing into her storage room. She emerges a few minutes later, wheeling out a heavy looking barrel.

"What's that?" I ask.

"Blasting jelly," she says pleasantly. "For iron bars."

"That's…a lot of jelly." There's no way we can move around a prison carrying a big barrel. My eyes roam the room until they land on a small rock collection on one of the shelves. "Jin," I say, hesitating a moment. "Do you think an Earthbender could seal a portion of the jelly inside a rock? Small enough that I could hide it in my clothes?"

Jin tilts her head to the side. "A hand bomb?"

"Yes, exactly."

She grins.

We spend the next few hours designing "jelly bombs" that Bowen and Toph—if I can talk her into it—will be able to put together. Jin then shows me the smoke grenades that will give us an element of distraction if we need a quick escape. I'm just about to leave when Asami stops in to check Jin's progress and I realize the real reason she and Riya work in here: poisons.

I should have realized it before, really. The idea of poison makes me a little uncomfortable. It's a deceitful weapon, cunning and quiet. I've been poisoned myself and it doesn't hold pleasant memories for me. It's hard to imagine someone as sweet as Jin creating poisons. But when I hear her humming pleasantly as she snaps a beetle in half and squeezes it's juices into a vial, I think maybe there is a streak of madness in her after all.

I tell Ursa what I'm working on. To my surprise, she takes me off the regular work schedule. I still have to report to the infirmary every evening, but for now I'm allowed to work on jelly bombs with Jin and Riya. Bowen usually walks me there but never comes inside. He always greets Jin, and she always ignores him. When Riya leaves the garden—she doesn't coop herself up in here all day like Jin does—I try to ask about her father. But Jin usually ignores me completely, which means it's a subject she doesn't want to talk about. So I give it a break, even if it's killing me. Command still has no answers for my dad, so all I can really do is wait anyway.

* * *

><p>A few days pass, and Bowen offers Jin a small rock that he's smoothed out into a perfectly round ball. She's tense and uncomfortable in his presence, but she still takes it from him and he leaves before she can throw him out.<p>

Zuko has been busy trying to find the location on my dad. Some days I don't see him at all, not even in Command. The Warden doesn't express worry, so I try not to either, even though I find myself glancing at the door more frequently when he's not here. I'm grown used to having him by my side, not at a distance.

And then one day, Jin returns Bowen's greeting. It isn't much—she just glances at him briefly with no fear or malice and in fact, I can't read her expression at all—but his eyes light up so brightly, it's as if the sun came out. I have to hide a smile of my own. Bowen has a heart he's had to harden, but he still seeks the forgiveness I desperately wanted from Ursa, from the other tributes' families I hurt. I'll never forget the feeling of seeing Ty Lee's family bow to me in Five.

Today, Bowen finally comes inside. Jin doesn't tell him he can stay, but she doesn't scream at him or throw things when he silently pulls up a stool, either. Instead she gives him a jar of blasting jelly and a bucket of rocks, silently asking him to mold the rocks and fill them. He obliges without a word.

Seeing this progress gives me motivation to try asking about her past again. Riya leaves to help in the infirmary, and I'm halfway through organizing one of the shelves when I ask, "Jin, you're from Province 6, aren't you?"

She nods, hunched over a fish she's currently de-boning for whatever the reason.

"How old were you when you moved here?"

"Eight," she says simply.

"Just you and your dad?"

She pauses, then nods. "No mother, no Mira."

"Why not?"

"Father did not need them. He needed me. Do you know why the door won't open?"

I glance over at Bowen, who appears to be watching Jin with mild curiosity. "Um, no," I say, used to her random outbursts. "Why did the Fire Lord want your father to come here?"

Jin doesn't answer. Instead, one of her hands does that thing where she traces something I can't see against the table.

"Did he build weapons with Asami's father?" I try.

She shakes her head.

"What did he do then?"

No answer. Jin starts to hum under her breath as tiny fish bones snap under her fingers. I have to ask her again before she looks back at me.

"He read," she says simply. "Book, after book, after book."

I glance at Bowen and know we're thinking the same thing: Zei must have been in Research, probably the Director of Research. What did the Fire Lord want him to find? What if he did? A wave of disappointment washes over me. This doesn't really help me find my dad after all.

"What was he looking for?" I ask anyway. But she's not listening at all now. Instead, her humming turns into singing, softly and sweetly.

_"Are you, are you_

_ Coming to the tree_

_ Where they strung up a man they say murdered three._

_ Strange things did happen here_

_ No stranger would it be_

_ If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree."_

I stare at her. Her voice is beautiful, and the song she's singing is haunting and sad. I think I've heard it before, but I can't place where or when.

_"Are you, are you_

_ Coming to the tree_

_ Where the dead man called out for his love to flee._

_ Strange things did happen here_

_ No stranger would it be_

_ If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree."_

Jin's voice fades. She hums a little, the same tune she was humming earlier, the one she's always humming under her breath.

_"Are you, are you_

_ Coming to the tree_

_ Where I told you to run, so we'd both be free._

_ Strange things did happen here_

_ No stranger would it be_

_ If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree._

Jin reaches out, gently touching the pendant at my neck. She continues to sing the final verse, her voice sounding far away.

"_Are you, are you_

_ Coming to the tree._

_Wear a necklace of rope, side by side with me._

_ Strange things did happen here_

_ No stranger would it be_

_ If we met up at midnight in the hanging tree."_

Jin's song stays with me the rest of the night and when I dream, I dream of a huge tree covered in ice with hanging corpses dangling from the branches.

* * *

><p>The next day, after a restless sleep, I'm summoned to Command early in the morning. I know the route well enough now that I practically sprint through the chilly corridors. When I reach the doors, two Equalists let me inside, where the Warden is waiting.<p>

"What is it?" I ask, not bothering with pleasantries. "Is it my dad? Is he alive?"

Ursa doesn't hesitate. "Yes," she says. She smiles briefly, but it doesn't reach the sadness in her eyes. "He's been sent to the Boiling Rock."

A sob rips out of my throat as I slump into a chair. He's alive. _My dad is alive_.

"How do you know?" I ask breathlessly.

"The General has his resources."

_Oh, Iroh, thank you._ I close my eyes. My dad's alive, but he's in the most secure prison the Capital has, a prison situated in the middle of a volcano. My relief is quickly diminished by dread. "How—what are we going to do?" I ask hopelessly.

"The Boiling Rock is near inescapable, but I am living proof that it can be done," says Ursa. She takes a seat across from me, folding her hands onto the table. "We have the advance of utilizing outside help. I know the layout of the facility, but protocols have likely changed in the past few years. We also don't know the effects the lunar eclipse has caused across the world, so we will need to proceed with immense caution. And Katara…" She hesitates briefly. "If you are followed from the prison, you will be on your own. You will not be permitted to return and risk compromising our location. Is that understood?"

I nod, a chill running down my spine. "I understand," I say. It hurts to admit it, and hurts even more that I _do_ understand.

"Good. I think a small, elite team is best. Too many will draw attention."

"Toph," I say immediately. "I promised her she could come."

Ursa looks mildly surprised. "Alright," she agrees. "You will need a pilot."

"Asami?" I can tell by Ursa's reaction she wants to disagree. "She's the best there is."

"Which is why I cannot afford to let her go."

I almost argue, but think better of it. She's right. As much as I want all of Thirteen to help me, I can't be that selfish. I have to remember the greater goal, and be thankful Ursa is even allowing such rescue. I think, suddenly, about Pakku, but he's still not fully recovered and I don't want to risk any setback—to the mission or to Pakku himself.

"I need Bowen," I say, thinking of his leverage. He's too valuable to be thrown into the prison himself if captured and if they send him back to the Capital, there's a good chance he'll be able to escape.

Ursa nods, looking distant. A somewhat tense silence settles over us. We've both avoided the final team member, the one person I cannot do this without—the one she'll never let go. I remember Zuko offered to lead this mission and I asked Ursa if she would stop him. She hadn't answered.

I force myself to say his name. "And Zuko?" My voice cracks and I hate myself for it.

Ursa drums her fingers on the table, weighing the options in her mind. After a long moment, she says, more to herself than to me, "Where you go, he goes." She glances up to meet my gaze and to my surprise, there's something soft in her eyes. "I watched enough of the Games to see that."

I stare at her, breathless. "So you're letting him go?" I manage to ask.

"No," she says quietly. "I'm just not going to stop him. Somehow, I feel this will protect him more than by keeping him here." Ursa stands up and walks to the front of the room. Before I can ask what she means, she says, "I will call for your team. You have full access to all the resources in Command and Research. I also suggest visiting Weaponry Advancement. I believe Asami has a few things you may require."

"Thank you," I say. "For everything."

Ursa smiles and beneath the calculating leader, I see a loving, compassionate woman. It's only when she leaves that I start to panic. We're going to rescue my dad from the securest prison in the Fire Nation. Sokka would already have a plan by now. And I have no idea where to even start.

* * *

><p>"We need to arrive at night, when the steam allows enough cover to fly into the volcano without detection."<p>

"What if we can't see well enough? The biplane—"

"The biplanes are not ready. Even if they were, they're too loud, only hold two people at a time, and the Capital will recognize the design belongs to Thirteen."

"I suppose we should just fly in on the giant sky bison, then? That won't be obvious or anything."

"We'll take one of the smaller war balloon's—repaint it so it looks like the ones at the Capital."

"Ah, now we have to add painting to the to-do list. Fantastic."

"Look—"

I lay my head on the table, tuning out the sounds of Zuko and Bowen's voices. Both have been in leading positions before, both have experience with this sort of thing. So naturally, they've butted heads the entire time and hardly let me get a word in. Not that I have experience, but at least I _listen_ to suggestions. I might as well not even be here. It's like being stuck in the Games with Jet and Sokka all over again. Toph already fell asleep, so she's not much help either.

The main table in Command is covered with maps, layouts, drawings of what Ursa remembers of the Boiling Rock, weaponry blueprints, books on weather patterns—you name it. And I have the strongest urge to just knock all these things onto the ground.

"I'm just saying the biplane is a better option if we can get one running. It's faster and smoother."

"And you have _no idea_ how to pilot one. Neither do I."

"Asami can teach us—"

"We don't have weeks to practice!"

"Oh, would both of you just shut up?" I finally snap at them.

Standing across the table from one another, they turn to look at me in surprise, as if forgetting I'm here. Toph jerks awake and asks what she missed.

I pointedly ignore her. "You guys have spent _hours_ talking about nothing but transportation," I say. "We haven't even addressed what we're going to do if by some miracle we even make it inside. I'm _pretty_ sure they're going to recognize us. There _are_ wanted posters with our faces on them."

Bowen mutters something under his breath that I don't quite catch. Then he glances at Zuko pointedly. "The scar does give you away, buddy."

Zuko's eyes flash. "_Don't_—"

"We're going to need a disguise," I cut in, trying—again—to avoid an argument. "But I think we should have a plan before we just show up and wing it. The Warden has one of the prisoner masks, right? One of us can be disguised as a prisoner; the other three can be dressed as guards. That will give us complete access to the facility, on the inside and outside."

"You're too short to pass as a believable guard," says Zuko, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "But that's actually a pretty good idea."

I throw my hands into the air. "I'm not that short! Why do you keep saying that?" And what about Toph? If I'm not believable, she sure can't be!

Zuko just blinks at me, confused.

"And how do we get prison guard uniforms?" asks Bowen. "I'm afraid I left my spare at home, Kat."

"We steal them of course," I say.

Toph laughs manically. "_Now_ we're talking. Can I be the prisoner?"

"No," the three of us say at the same time.

"Why not?" Toph complains. "Picture it: the Blind Bandit, escaped convict on the run, with no one to stop her on her quest for freedom."

"Everyone thinks you're dead, Toph," I point out. "And the _Blind_ Bandit isn't exactly inconspicuous."

She groans. "Ugh, you're no fun, you know that?"

"This isn't about fun!" I snap at her.

"Men and women will be in separate wards," says Zuko. "Finding Katara's dad will be easier if it's one of us." He gestures toward himself and Bowen with his chin.

"It can't be you," I tell him. "We can't risk you getting caught. Bowen…"

"Katara's right," says Bowen, cutting Zuko's protests off. "It has to be me. Though I'm not sure the mask can hide my youth and beauty."

I roll my eyes and glance between our arms, noticing the similar skin tone. He might even be able to pass as Water Tribe, which could help us find my dad even quicker. I wonder, briefly, if his father was from Nine and if he was, how he met Mica. I think about asking, and then I remember the bitterness that's there whenever Bowen speaks about his father, so I say nothing.

"You're forgetting one thing, Handsome," says Toph smugly.

"Oh yeah? What's that, _Blind Bandit?_"

"Two words," she says. "Your. Hair."

Bowen pales and any trace of humor vanishes from his face.

* * *

><p>It takes another few days to iron out our plan. Zuko and Bowen repaint one of the smaller war balloons, making it look exactly like a Capital replica. If our vehicle is caught, at least it isn't screaming Equalists and rebellious activity. Jin gives us a handful of jelly bombs and smoke grenades to take with us, and a poison which will induce sleep. I keep that one carefully tucked in my boot, along with Zuko's knife.<p>

Asami is able to design a uniform that resembles what Ursa had to wear. If they changed the uniform, we'll have to find a way to steal one for Bowen.

Now he stands in the sewing room, bare chested with his arms spread wide as Asami takes measurements while I patch up my own clothes. Toph is here too, doing nothing like usual.

"Just hold still a moment longer," Asami instructs Bowen.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" he teases, a lazy smirk on his lips.

She jerks the measuring tape tighter around his forearm and he yelps. "This isn't my first time."

"Was that an innuendo, Milady?" he says, fighting a smile.

"I am not your lady," she says. "Lower your arms."

"Would you like to be?"

For the first time, I see Asami blush and stutter, which only makes Bowen grin even wider.

"Sorry, he's not used to being denied," I say, coming to her aid. Asami stands up and begins to put away her measuring tapes.

"What about my lower body?" ask Bowen, crossing his tightly corded arms.

She glances at him and shrugs delicately. "I don't see anything much to measure." Then she walks out with a flip of her hair.

"Now _that_ was an innuendo," says Toph, and we laugh so hard my side hurts for the rest of the night.

Bowen finally agrees to let us touch his hair. He'll still have a thin layer of hair, so he won't be completely bald like an Airbender, but he's still not happy about it. I don't tell him, but I'll admit he _does_ have really nice hair. Raven black, with jagged edges that fall temptingly across his forehead. He also has to remove the emerald studs in his ears, making him almost unrecognizable when I see him again.

He's so grumpy over the subject that when Jin actually giggles at him during lunch, I expect some sort of outburst but instead he actually softens a little and smiles at her. I didn't think she'd accept my invitation to eat with me, but I'm thankful she did. Seeing her out of the garden and laughing is worth Bowen's suffering, just this once.

I finally get to see some of what goes on in Weaponry Advancement. Huge, spacious caverns are dedicated to building things I've never even thought of. There's a massive production room with long assembly belts carrying parts and pieces to what Asami tells me is an unfinished product, one of her father's designs. She says she's tinkered with the models some, but hasn't focused too much on them since they are not weapons.

I find out that biplanes are winged, three bladed propeller contraptions that look sleek and fast, much more versatile than air ships and balloons. Asami tries to explain to me how they work but I have to admit Sokka would probably understand better than me. I get distracted by the huge, mechanized suits called mecha tanks. They're made of platinum, a metal too pure to be bent by Earthbenders. Bowen tries to prove her wrong, but even he can't bend them. They look like giant robots, with long clawed arms and a small glass window to look out of. They are able to produce lightning and fire, and shoot out metal cables. Asami shows me the room that focuses on smoke grenades. Ursa ordered most of the larger, more damaging bombs to be scrapped.

The night we are set to leave, Jin asks me if I'm going to the tree. It takes me a second to realize she's talking about her song and I only laugh and hug her, telling her I'll return in a few days. I can only hope it's true.

I say the rest of my goodbyes early, and choose to wait near the gate for the others. Outside, the air balloon waits, painted a deep shade of red and marked with the Fire emblem. I can see the red glare from the moon, highlighting the balloon. The ache in my chest from not being able to bend makes it harder and harder for me to function each day. It will pass, I keep reminding myself. It has to.

I packed a sack of food that should last us. Ursa thinks it will take about a day and a half to get there, allowing us to stop once at the edge of where the Games are played. We'll be flying over top of the arena. The thought alone leaves me a little breathless.

When the rest of my team arrives, the gate rises and we step out into the crimson night.

_We're coming, Dad._

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Thanks for reading! The lyrics belong to Suzanne Collins, who wrote The Hanging Tree. :D If you have never heard the version by Adrisaurus stop what you're doing and listen to it now. It's stunning, and the way I imagined Jin to sing it rather than the version in the Mockigjay Part 1 movie. (Also stunning, of course) Next up...the Boiling Rock!

(Fun fact. I knew forever ago I wanted to do a Boiling Rock rescue. But in my original plan, only Zuko and Bowen were going to go. I changed my mind because 1) I can't imagine Katara sitting around, waiting and 2) I wanted to write it, rather than have it happen off page. :D I love those two episodes, so I couldn't resist.)

Review responses:

**smylealong2k: "****this trilogy has become my favorite fic on the site. Keep going gal. I also look forward to your Zutara interpretation of Mulan. Will it be based on the Disney movie or the Chinese legend?"** - Thank you! So glad you're enjoying it. :D Dark Side of the Moon will be based on the Disney movie, actually. It's one of my favorites and I really wanted to write a Zutara AU based on it. :D

**Guest: "****do you have a zutara fanfic reclist of the reclist on your tumblr?"** - The ones on my Tumblr should all be saved under my favorites here, except for a few that are on HPFF. If you are interested in those, I can link you!

**vibranstars: " ****Why is Province 13 the Capital's secret?"** - (Firstly, thanks for leaving a review before the end! I always love meeting new readers. :D) To answer your question, Thirteen was a secret even BEFORE the Red Death. Thirteen specialized in weapons of mass destruction and top of the line technology (at the time). There was no need for the people to know all the cards the Capital had in their back pocket should a war break out. (Thirteen was also very progressive: No fighting in the Black Games, all types of benders were able to coexist, advances in technology, etc. The people could possibly react negative if they knew this type of province existed. Azulon and Ozai had no plans of allowing the rest of the world to progress this way, they like the control they have keeping all benders separated.)

**"****Will Ozai meet Ursa?"**- Oh yes. :D

**"****Are the Bacui berries a reference to the berries at the end of THG?"** - Actually no, lol. I knew I wanted a food that was a cure, and I did some research on different plants and berries on ATLA Wiki and came across those berries. In canon, it's a cure to the white jade bush, which is poisonous.

**"****In one of your review responses you said how the description of Zuko's secret room is important. Were you just referring to Ursa's back story"** - Yes, it was actually one of Ursa's rooms. It's not near her bedchamber, but she chose it for the view of the garden below.

**"****What happened to Joo Dee?"**- You'll see! :D

**"****Did Ozai have something to do with Katara's assassination? Since he glanced at her suctures quite a few times during the banquet scene."** - Actually no. Katara assumed he was glaring at her sutures, but he was actually angry because he recognized the necklace she was wearing. ;)

**"I still have a ton of questions, but I don't want to tire you with my rambling girl! I should probably leave questions somewhere else. Just remember that you are awesome. Oreo cookies and pizza for you sweetie**** "** - Haha yummm! Feel free to ask as many questions as you like! I will always answer, as long as they aren't too spoilery. :P

**killua kun: "****Where are you from? I noticed you have readers from all over thats pretty cool how your story has reached people all around the world!" -** It's definitely awesome! I'm from the United States. Always wanted to go to Australia though so that's pretty cool you're from there!

"zuko or katara make propo videos like in MJ?" - I haven't decided yet, actually. But it's a possibility. :D

**"****can we get bonus chapters about the rebellions in the provinces? (Wait will they even rebel?)"** - If they do, we'll only hear about it since this story is told in Katara's POV. Though I may write some bonus scenes after the story is finished.

**Lily246: "****how often do you update? And when is the next character q&a?"** - Hello new reader! *waves* I typically update once or twice a month. The next Q&A...I'll see. Soon. :D

**YellowWolfy: "Lol, I feel gross. Just read the first two fics and now this in one day. Totally neglecting homework, but it's worth it!**** "** - Haha, well I'm glad it was worth it! :P Hope you got that homework done!

**Skeptical Believer: "****I know others have commented on his actions over words method of showing he cares, but I have to say, it really shined in this chapter. But then he says things like "It's always belonged to you" and I swoon."** - Thank you! I feel like Zuko shows his feelings through his actions, but every once in awhile he'll knock you breathless with his words. :D

To those asking about the eclipse and Katara's bending...I can't say much yet. Just know it's going to be explored in further detailed soon. :D


	9. The Boiling Rock: The Infiltration

**A/N:** So this chapter is part 1 of 2 because it's impossible to write (apparently here and on the show) The Boiling Rock in one. :P I apologize for the wait, but this in particular took a lot of planning out. Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9 - The Boiling Rock: The Infiltration<strong>

Zuko is the only one who can operate the balloon because he's a Firebender, so we agree to take turns staying up with him. The plan is to follow Ursa's map and rest at the southernmost tip of the arena. From there we'll be able to travel west to the Boiling Rock.

Toph is sleeping, and I'm supposed to be too since it's Bowen's turn to be up, but I can't sleep. Both boys have been silent since we left, making it even harder for my thoughts to rest. All I can think about is my dad, of what they're doing to him and the conditions in which he's had to live. What if we're too late to save him?

The silence is interrupted by a soft whistling. Bowen. It lasts longer than I expect.

"_What?_" Zuko finally snaps.

"I didn't say anything," says Bowen innocently.

"Stop whistling."

"What," Bowen mocks, "are you Prince of the Skies now too?"

"Funny. I just don't want Toph to wake up. She's done enough complaining already."

"Good point," Bowen agrees, and they fall back into silence. It's not long before I hear the light tapping of metal against metal.

"Is it that hard for you to be quiet?" Zuko grinds out. My eyes are shut but I can picture him pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Actually, it is," says Bowen. "Besides, why ride in silence when I have such sociable company?"

Zuko grunts in response. I feel the brief blast of fire against my back as he fuels the balloon.

"What do you think of Asami?" asks Bowen.

"I don't really know her."

"She's smart, beautiful, knows how to survive, has nice hair…"

"Yeah, fluffy."

"She's basically me," says Bowen. "But with a less sense of humor. And not as charming. Actually—"

"What's your point?" interrupts Zuko, sounding agitated.

"I'm pretty good at reading people," Bowen admits, "but she's hard to read. It's so refreshingly frustrating."

"You don't exactly make it easy for people to read you, either."

"Neither do you."

Zuko hesitates. "It's easier that way," he says finally.

"Yeah," says Bowen, quiet and serious. "I suppose it is."

The prince takes a deep breath; warm fire tickles my back again. "I never really thanked you," he says, a little begrudgingly. "For helping save my life—well, whatever you want to call it. I owe you a debt, Bowen."

"Nonsense. You'd have done the same for me if Kat asked."

Zuko says nothing. I don't know if that means he agrees or disagrees. I guess it doesn't matter. They shift the conversation into lighter waters and slowly, finally, I feel myself drift to sleep.

They wake me when we land to make camp for the night. Zuko lowers the ladder and I climb down. When my feet hit the ground, all I can do is stare around me. We're outside the boundaries of the arena, but the landscape is the same: the same terrain, now plagued by red instead of browns and greens, the same large rocks and tall trees that cover the sky, the familiar dry air. The only difference is the strong smell of the ocean off in the distance. I close my eyes and breath slowly to tune out the sound of the cannon that I know isn't real.

_The Games are over. You are not being hunted. It's not real._

A tight squeeze in my hand, fingers interlocking with mine, brings me back to reality. "I'm going to gather wood," says Zuko, letting go and brushing past me. "Start filling the canteens with water."

I nod, glad to have something to do. I catch Bowen staring off into the distance and wonder if he was just as riveted as I was. I'm about to ask him to come with me, but Toph beats me to do. They begin working on our shelters made of rock and earth. So I head to the beach alone with an armful of canteens.

The salty breeze ruffles my hair and the moon gleams red against the too still ocean, an endless bloody mass. The irony is not lost on me. I fill the canteens and then sit in the damp sand. I write my name with a finger, then Sokka's, and then my dad's. I draw a circle around our names, as though that will keep us together forever.

I don't know how long I sit here, but sometime later the others join me. Zuko boils the water and cooks some fresh fish over the fire he's made. We eat in comfortable silence. After we finish, the four of us sit side by side in the sand, lost in our own thoughts. I think I could sit here forever, staring at the endless, unmoving sea. I should feel more unraveled at the stillness of the waves, but I'm oddly content with the fire crackling and warming my back.

Toph is the first to leave and Bowen follows shortly after. Zuko and I stay where we are, sitting together, close enough that we're touching. My head eventually drifts to his shoulder. After a few minutes, I feel his cheek press against my head.

"I never thought we'd be back here," I say quietly.

"Not quite like old times at least."

"I could attack you, if you like."

Zuko laughs softly. "I'd rather you didn't."

"Yeah, I'm glad we're not enemies anymore."

"I never saw you as an enemy," he says. I peer up at him, but he's staring out over the ocean. "You and the others were just opponents; obstacles in my way."

"Sorry about that," I say playfully.

"I'm not."

Zuko glances down and our faces are so close all the sudden, I feel my heart pound as his warm breath tickles my nose. His eyes flicker down to my mouth then back to me. He reaches up and for a moment, I think his hand is going to thread in my hair, but then his fingers ball into a fist and he glances away. "I brought you something," he says.

"Oh," I say, a little breathlessly. I clear my throat. "What?"

I sit back and he pulls out a small, handheld glove from inside his robes. "I've been working with Asami. It's called an electrified glove or gauntlet," he says. "We were working on a bigger, more powerful model, but this is small and better for concealment. It's powered by an energy source—my lightning."

I take the glove and examine it. It mostly made of metal, with brassy looking fingers. Two wires run down to the palm of the glove, directly into a circular segment from where I assume the electrical current is released. It looks more like a hand that belongs to a mechanical robot. "How does it work?" I ask.

He stands up and helps me to my feet. "Ball your hand to a fist and you'll see."

I slide the glove on and do as he says. I yelp as bright, white-blue lightning erupts from around the glove. I stare at it in awe, feeling the hum and heat from the current. I close my fist and the lightning disappears. "This is amazing, Zuko," I say. "You designed it?"

"Asami did. I just gave her the idea."

"Lightning in the palm of your hand," I murmur, clutching my hand so that the lightning returns.

"She wants to create gloves that actually shoot lightning, a longer range weapon," he says. "This is more of a close range weapon. I hope you won't have to use it, but it's more effective than a knife."

I think about the lightning that nearly killed him, about the dagger that did. I can't look at him as I close my hand. "Thank you," I say quietly. "What's it like to summon lightning?"

"It's…like every muscle and nerve is vibrating with energy and your body is on fire." I glance at him in surprise. "Separating the positive and negative energies is draining and all you want to do is release all that power. It takes a lot of practice to build up stamina to generate lightning for long periods of time, or to do it repeatedly. Redirecting is also difficult."

"Maybe you should just get some gloves," I say with a grin.

Zuko laughs. "Maybe."

We spend a little longer at the beach, with me blasting apart the sand with my new glove. Zuko scolds me a few times, reminding me it's not a toy and that I need to use it with care. I know he's right, but I have to admit it's _a little_ fun to use. It's not as powerful as Zuko generating lightning himself, but it's enough of a shock to stun my opponent and knock them out—to even kill them if I aim for the heart.

I don't want to kill anyone else ever again, but I'll do whatever it takes to save my dad and protect the ones I love. They're all I have left.

* * *

><p>Even though the sky remains a deep shade of crimson, we decide to still plan for a late arrival at the Boiling Rock. They will still have a schedule, and nighttime will have less activity. It's my turn to stay up with Zuko when we leave camp, but it's not a very long flight so everyone stays up. Bowen is already dressed in his prisoners' uniform: a simple red suit, cut at the sleeves with long pants.<p>

"Are we there yet?" Toph complains. "I can't see a thing up here."

"You can't—" I stop myself. "Never mind."

"There it is," says Zuko. I lean forward over the edge and see it: smoke billowing up from a volcano in the middle of the ocean. "There's plenty of steam to keep us covered. We'll be able to navigate through if we're quiet."

I slip on my mask and brace myself as we enter the steam. It surrounds us like a thick, hot fog. I can't see anything. Zuko fuels more fire into the balloon. My stomach drops as I feel the balloon take an abrupt bounce. Then another. We're dropping, and we're dropping _fast_.

"Um, are we crash landing?" Toph asks. "Because I did _not _sign up to burn to death in a volcano!" She grabs my arm, clutching tight.

"Why isn't it flying?" Zuko asks, pumping more and more fire forward.

"The air outside is just as hot as the air inside," says Bowen. He moves to the edge of the balloon, holding out his arms.

"What are you doing?" I ask. The heat is nearly unbearable now, suffocating.

The balloon jerks. Toph and I fly backward and land on our backs. Even with the mask on, I still can't help but cough.

"Hold on!" Bowen shouts.

Toph and I grab each other just as something hard bumps us from below the balloon. We scream as the balloon skids bumpily across the ground; supplies bounce around and out of the balloon. We're still clutching each other when it stops.

Toph throws me off. "Are you crazy?" she accuses Bowen.

"Only on the weekends," he says pleasantly. "Someone had to make sure we landed in one piece."

"Quiet, both of you. We've already made too much noise," says Zuko, rubbing his head. "Let's go."

We climb down the ladder, take the supplies we'll need, and send the rest—including the balloon, since it's worthless—into the boiling water to cover our tracks.

"No turning back now," murmurs Zuko.

I take a deep breath and face the prison before me. It's sitting on a rock surrounded by boiling water, massively tall and shaped like a hexagon with no windows. Step one—actually land without dying—complete. Now it's me and Toph's turn.

I turn to face Zuko and Bowen. "Remember to stay hidden until we return." They nod and I turn away before I can contemplate the worse that can happen. Toph is already out ahead of me. I don't get far before a hand grips my elbow, halting me.

"You have twenty minutes," says Zuko, his voice serious and tight. He doesn't like this part of the plan, but it's non-negotiable.

"You don't have a clock." I smile at him weakly.

"I'm serious, Katara. If you're not back soon, we're coming in after you."

"Only because you don't have any way to escape."

"That's not why."

I stare at him, wishing the intensity would fade from his eyes, but he's too tense, too worried for that to happen. "I know," I say quietly. I reach up and lightly brush my knuckles across his scar. His eyes flutter shut. Then I leave before he can convince me to stay.

Toph creates stepping stones of rock for us to cross to reach the prison. Even though it's hotter than comfort would allow, years and years of illegal hunting and sneaking around Nine has made me light on my feet. I make it across relatively easy.

We reach the prison grounds and Toph halts me, feeling the ground with her hand. "There are three patrolling the grounds," she says.

"Can you tell how many are inside?"

"What do I look like, a mind reader? No, they're too far away."

I shoot her a look and pull out Ursa's map. I've studied it a dozen times already, but I'd rather be safe than sorry. "According to the map, there's a guard's changing room on the first level. Once we enter the lobby, we have to take the corridor on the left, take the first right, and it's the third door—"

"Okay, okay, okay," says Toph, holding up her hands. "You lost me at lobby. We'll wing it. We gotta go."

"No, we can't just—"

"Let's go!"

I slip on my glove and we sprint across the steamy grounds. I yank open the large door and inside are two guards behind a tall metal desk. Toph slashes forward and sends a metal strip across each of their mouths, silencing them. Then, before they can recover from surprise, I lunge across the room, ball up my fist, and strike them in the arms. Their bodies shake and tremble under the electric current before they hit the ground.

"What do we do," I say in a panic, breathing hard.

"Why are you asking me? You're the one with the plan."

"I'm drawing a blank!"

"Throw them into the lake."

I look at her in horror. "What, no! We'll have to lock them up somewhere."

"Fine." Toph makes an impatient sound. "I'll find an empty storage room." She closes her eyes and punches a bare foot to the ground, her tiny fists balled up. Her eyes snap open. "Near the guard's room. Come on."

We both grunt and groan as we drag the bodies through the corridors. It's a miracle we don't run into any more guards. I'm reminded of my time at the Capital prison—the same drafty and barely lit corridors, the color of metal and grey. I can't say I'm glad to be back.

Toph kicks open the storage room and we throw the guards inside. I bend down and tie their hands behind their back, then their ankles, with some metal cords we brought from Thirteen. That should hold them long enough.

Next we dart into the guard's changing room. Gold and maroon helmets, armor and boots line the walls. I decide having a third guard uniform won't hurt and hand Toph what sizes I think she is. Then I grab my own. We change quickly and quietly. As I slide on my new boots, my eyes fall on my Equalist uniform lying on the ground. "What do we do with our clothes?" I ask Toph, suddenly worried. "I didn't even think about that."

"We gotta burn them."

"With what? I'm not a Firebender and neither are you the last time I checked!"

Toph pauses and looks at me with the same panic I feel. It only makes me feel worse, and my heart beats erratically in my chest. Has it been twenty minutes? What if Zuko and Bowen are on their way inside? They don't even have a map!

"Stuff them," I say desperately. "We need the mask to get back into Thirteen. Just stuff it in your armor somewhere."

"What? I can't just—"

"Just do it, Toph! We don't have a lot of options." I start stuffing her mask inside her armor before she can resist. "We're on the first floor. Open the ground and just bury the uniforms."

Toph huffs and does as I ask. She creates a perfect hole through the metal and earth, and we toss our old uniforms and boots inside. Then she seals it back, perfect as new. I stuff my own mask and glove inside my breast plate, making me look more busty than usual. It'll have to do.

"Now we just have to get their uniforms," I say. I hand Toph a pair of boots, then stack the armor and helmet on top. I grab another set and we exit the room. We make it back to the lobby when a guard comes in, skidding to a halt. I drop the uniform in surprise but Toph manages to keep still. Luckily he doesn't seem to notice.

"There's a scuffle in the yard," says the guard. "One of you, come with me."

My throat goes dry. "Uh," I manage. "I don't think—"

"Now!"

Toph and I look at each other. "Return these to their…owner," I manage. "Don't forget the other supplies. I'll see what the fuss is about."

_What if it's my dad?_

Toph nods and I wonder if she's as worried as I am. This isn't the plan, but plans change. I follow the guard and we run through the corridors until we reach an opening. I'm hit with a breath of warm air. The yard is a huge open area on stony ground in the middle of the prison, tinted red from the blood moon. I can see lookout stations all around the top, and a huge balcony and tall tower with glass windows. '

The guard pushes his way through the crowd of masked prisoners and I follow his lead, scanning the yard for water tribe citizens. I don't see any. Even with this lighting they look too pale. The prisoners stand in a huge circle, a prisoner and one single guard alone in the middle. I'm relived to see the uniforms haven't seemed to change since Ursa left so Bowen will fit right in.

"I didn't do anything," says the prisoner shakily. Judging by his voice and hunched over posture, he's an older man, wide in the shoulders, but too thin for his frame, as if he's been starved.

"You didn't, did you?" The guard slashes forward with a whip of fire, a threatening gesture I know all too well. And just like in Nine, no one steps forward to try to stop it.

"Please," the prisoner begs. "Let me return to my cell."

"It is customary to bow to a commanding officer, Prisoner."

The man seems to quiver. "I can barely walk, let alone bow."

"That is no excuse." The guard lashes forward—I close my eyes before I step in and blow my cover—and then I hear the crowd gasp.

I snap my eyes open to see the prisoner with his hands up; the guard has his helmet flipped up to reveal his surprised eyes. "Still a little fire in you after all. But as you are aware, Firebending is prohibited." He sounds more pleased than he should. "You can spend the night in the cooler as a reminder."

I remember Ursa mentioning the coolers. But without the map, I can't remember exactly where they are.

"You!" I look around. To my horror, I realize the guard is pointing at me. "Help me take him in."

Because I don't know what else to do, I follow him. I don't want to look at the old prisoner walking between us, and when he almost trips I can't help but reach out and steady him. The old man tilts his head up to look at me, but of course I can't read his expression. That horrible mask erases any emotion I might see. The other guard doesn't notice our exchange.

"The Warden will deal with you soon enough," says the guard when we reach our destination. He unlocks a door and slides it open. Then he slides open a second door, this one silver and cold metal. I'm hit with a blast of frost and the guard throws the old prisoner inside. "Sleep tight."

He slams the door shut, and then slides the other door back in place, locking it. The prisoner's uniforms are cut above the elbows, just like the one we designed for Bowen. He'll freeze.

"_Prisoners_," the guard scoffs. "They're given too much freedom around here. And they should have more than a year of solitary confinement if you ask me."

My fists ball at my side in anger. When I don't say anything, the guard looks at me. "Yeah," I force myself to say. "Definitely."

"Some of these guys need longer than a year, but I guess they'll break eventually." The guard stalks past me. "They always do."

I glance down the corridor. It's lined with similar cells, all "coolers." Nothing like a freezing cell to make a Firebender miserable. I doubt my dad will be in one of these. He's new, so he'll be placed in solitary confinement in the east wing of the prison. So will Bowen. Unless Zuko goes with our original plan, that Bowen tried to escape. In which he'll be placed in one of these coolers.

I start walking forward, then stop, then go again, debating what to do.

"Hey buddy," someone calls to me. I turn and try to hide my surprise. "You don't have to be told to go. Shift's over. Let's grab some tea in the lounge."

"Oh, I was just going—"

"A newbie girl? I like it." The guard throws an arm around me and I cringe. "Come on, I'll show you the way."

"What makes you think I'm new?" I ask.

"Call it intuition. What's your name?"

"Are we allowed to have those?" I ask bitterly.

The guard laughs. He's so carefree for a place like this that it's discomforting. "Just because the prisoners don't get em doesn't mean we don't."

"K-Kira," I stammer.

"I'm Lee," he says, dragging me down the corridor. "Nice to meet you, Kira."

My hand starts to reach for my glove, but I stop myself. Maybe I can ask some questions and get more information. Maybe they'll know where the prisoners from Nine are being held.

To get to the lounge, we pass through one of the wards, but I don't know if it's for males or females. It's a huge square room, about five floors high with the walls lined with cells. There's at least ten guards on each floor, standing stationary. I'll have to find out their rotation.

We reach the lounge and I hesitate before entering. It's crowded with small wood tables, most of which are occupied by guards, and a long table filled with warm food and tea. Lee removes his helmet and grins at me. Large grey eyes, he has a boyish face, reminding me slightly of Aang. Pain ripples across my chest.

"You don't have to wear your helmet in here," says Lee.

"I…I want to be prepared at all times," I say. He hands me a plate and fills it with steaming buns. "You know, in case there's an incident or something."

A few of the surrounding guards laugh. Lee joins in. I scowl at all of them. "Hey, maybe you shouldn't underestimate these prisoners," I say heatedly. _We're about to rescue my dad and escape right under your nose and you have no idea!_

"Relax," says Lee. He puts an arm around my shoulders and steers me toward one of the walls in the back. A wall, I notice, that is covered in posters. Wanted posters. I can't rip my eyes away from my own when I spot it. "You see these guys?" Lee goes on. He plops a bun into his mouth and talks through his chewing, "D'ese are da real people to worry 'bout. Da guys in here, they're not goin' anywhere."

I stare at my poster—Bowen, Pakku, Ursa dressed as Amun Ra, faces I don't even know, and then I see Zuko's. I lean forward to have a better look. The first thing I notice is that it's slightly different than the others. The text written in gold ink and without "Wanted" inked across the top.

_Missing—Prince Zuko of Province One. Nineteen years old. The prince…_

I can't seem to read past his age. Nineteen? That means…when was his birthday? This question seems so important all the sudden and I don't even know why, but it upsets me that I didn't know. I scan the rest of the text quickly, so quickly that I don't comprehend what I'm reading. My hand reaches out unthinkingly and I touch his poster.

"Can you believe those rebels?" says Lee, shaking his head. "Kidnapping the prince like that."

"Kidnapping?" I don't recognize my voice.

"Yeah, for ransom or leverage or something. Where have you been, Kira? Didn't you see them abduct him from the arena?"

"I…it looked different from where I saw it," I breathe.

Does Ozai really believe he was kidnapped? Or does he think Zuko is a traitor? It doesn't matter. What matters is what the Capital saw; the angle the story is being spun: a group of masked individuals abducted the prince.

Zuko is the victim. The rest of us are the rebels, the enemies who have to be stopped.

No, we're not rebels. We're more than that now. It's time we're acknowledged for who we are and what we stand for.

"Not rebels. Equalists," I tell Lee. "They're called Equalists."

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><p><strong>AN:** Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed part 1 and some of the parallels to canon. "Yeah, fluffy" just HAD to make an appearance. :D Part 2 should be posted in a few weeks.

Review responses:

**Italia8989: "****You characters are also swoon-worthy. You've probably have had this question asked a thousand times, but who's your favorite and why?" -** Well thank you! Hmmm, my favorite. Like in this story, or ATLA in general? In ATLA in general, Zuko. In this story...from a writing perspective, I really like Katara because she just never gives up and always fights for what's right. Her quote from canon, "You can't knock me down," is a big inspiration for how I've written her. I also really like writing Zuko and Bowen. Ozai and Iroh are by far the hardest. :P

**"****I'm not sure if you've read it, but the Red Death is mentioned in a short story by Edgar Allen Poe called "Masque of the Red Death." Was this inspired in any way by it?"** - Actually I hadn't even thought about it! I read Poe's story a loooooong time ago. The inspiration is actually a spoiler, but I'll reveal it soon. :D It's so random too I think people will find it amusing.

**PoptartProdigy: "****I do love the way you're developing Katara and Zuko. They clearly care for each other, but just as clearly aren't thinking about the things that, long-term, will lie between them"** - Thanks! Yeah, in canon Katara kind of shot Aang down at the play when he brought up their relationship, saying they were in the middle of the war. So I wanted to keep that thought process here similar. Katara knows how she feels for Zuko, she's acknowledged that. But she isn't really thinking about what that means in the long run.

**Change of Heart Good and Evil: "****Hello! Me and my sister are new fans of your trilogy and I have to say that it's very fantastic!"** - Thank you! I'm so glad you guys like it! Thanks for giving this a shot. :D

**lil7miss7sarcastic: "****usually in every fanfic I read, I get annoyed if a part of the couple I ship even so much as interacts with some one considered as 'competition' but here I'm rooting for Botara as much as Zutara"** - Lol! Well I take that as a very HIGH compliment! Because I'm the same way usually, though I've had some exceptions. (Rose, Dimitri and Adrian from Vampire Academy. Okay I only shipped Dimitri with Rose, but I liked the sexytimes with Adrian. :P)

**"****Basically I like it when female characters get the chance to explore relationships (romantic or otherwise) with people other than the intended soulmate."** - Yes, I agree with that. That's more realistic, too. Most of us don't meet our soul mates on the first try. :P

**"****Could you tell me what Zutara was like in the show since I haven't watched much? Were there any shipping scenes?**" - Ahh you must at least watch book 3. :D There weren't any intentional shipping scenes, but they did have an entire episode together that ended in a hug. They also had one of the best fighting scenes together. I don't want to give that one away but...just watch Into the Inferno Part 3. :D

**" ****CAN'T WAIT FOR THE GAME OF THRONES AU WILL KATARA BE BRIENNE?"** - I can't tell you! :P

**sisa96: "****I'm glad I decided to read your works because not only it's satisfying to read, but it also helps me exercise my english, since I'm italian. Oh, and it made my muse resurface from nearly two years of slumber."** - That is wonderful to hear! I'm so glad reading this has helped you and given you muse. Inspiring others is the greatest honor, truly. I wish you the best of luck!

**giovanna: "****I live in a very small village in Italy, we get internet only a few times a month and each time we do, my friends and I sit around an old computer and I read this fic out loud to them."** - Wow! I think stories is such a beautiful thing that they can travel all around the world and be shared. I'm so glad you guys are enjoying it together. I would love to hear your theories! :D

**Random k: "Did you plan it to be a tad parallel, or am I drawing odd conclusions?"** - That is certainly an interesting theory! But yes I'd say it was more of a coincidence. :P Katara will always hold a little bitterness toward Bowen, but she doesn't blame him for Sokka's death. (She's learning to forgive herself, whom she blamed more than anyone) Their relationship will never be as strained as Gale and Katniss's ended up being.

**the dark arts: "****Please come back to TDA! We miss you and your graphics. 3"** - I miss it too! Very much so.

**WilhelminaCG: "****It's really beautiful and touching seeing Bowen and Jin interacting i can't wait to see more of them"** - They definitely have a very unique relationship. You will get to see more of them soon! :D

**SkepticalBeliever: "****I am anxious to see how Bowen and Zuko manage the whole team work thing. I imagine it is quite colorful."** - You know they might be my favorite dynamic to write, aside from Zuko and Katara. They're just hilarious together. Reminds me a little of Zuko and Sokka.

**"Speaking of colorful, I find your version of Asami much more interesting than in LoK. She hasn't had a lot of presence yet in your story, but I like that you have retained her strong traits and have begun injecting some personality into them."** - Thank you! Yeah I feel like she was completely wasted in LoK, like they just didn't know what to do with her. I wanted to really highlight her engineering in this story. :D

**InItToWinIt: "****I forgot - who is Mica again?"** - Mica is Bowen's mother. :D

**EbunnyLove: "****I like the development between Jin and Bowen. It's sort of like Katniss and Haymitch coming together again in Mockingjay or when Katniss decides to trust people like Boggs from 13 just a bit. Since you say you didn't really like or finish Mockingjay was that intentional or just where the story led you?"** - Yeah I've only read bits and pieces of Mockingjay, so it's a coincidence. :P


	10. The Boiling Rock: The Escape

**A/N:** Why I ever thought I could write The Boiling Rock in two parts is beyond me. :P So this is part two of three. The wait was definitely longer than I had hoped, but this chapter is super long (and got re-written a few times) so hopefully that makes up for it a little bit. :D Part three is about 25% done already, so I really mean it when I say the update will be faster. Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Chapter 10 - The Boiling Rock Part Two: The Escape<strong>

_Equalists._

The word circles around the lounge, rolling off the tongues of the guards with disdain. I take the opportunity to plant doubt in their minds.

"I hear the Capital is keeping it quiet," I say to Lee.

"Why would the Fire Lord do that?"

I shrug. "Maybe he believes they're powerful enough to stir fear amongst the people."

"There has been uprising's before." He doesn't sound entirely convinced, but there is a slight edge of concern. "It didn't matter in Twelve. It won't matter now."

I remember hearing about an uprising in Twelve in the Games. It's still crazy to me that I had never heard of such a thing before then. If an uprising really did occur, the rumors were squashed before reaching Nine. But Lee knows. So the guards must know of rebellious activity after all. It's only the rest of us who are kept in the dark.

I decide to change the subject with Lee. "Tell me about the prisoners. I want to know what to expect."

He tells me most of the prisoners have a history of violence, traitorous activity, and murder. I'm surprised to learn there are prisoners from all provinces here—those that were too disobedient in their province prisons.

"So, what about the prisoners from Nine?" Lee looks at me strangely and I immediately rush on, "Maybe they were part of the Equalist movement."

"Nine?" he says, surprised. "I doubt it. Most were transferred."

"Transferred?" I force myself not to sound as devastated as I feel, but I can barely control my voice. "Where to?"

"You're very curious, newbie."

I stand up to hide my shaking. I force a shrug and try to sound calm. "I wouldn't want anything to happen to my family."

"What province are you from?" says a guard a few seats down from Lee. "What'd you say your name was again?"

I don't answer him. I think Lee does, but I'm hardly listening. I can't escape fast enough. My mind is working frantically, screaming one word over and over: transferred. _Transferred_. He can't be. They can't have moved him. What does Lee know, anyway? He's just a prison guard.

I need to find Zuko, now. The plan was to escort Bowen to a prison cell, then between the three of us, find where they were keeping my dad. I have no idea how to find them now and I can't exactly search the place top to bottom. The guards have a strict patrol schedule and I'll draw attention to myself if I'm wandering around without purpose. On the map there's a patrol room with a rotation schedule posted. If I can at least look like I'm one of them, I can search for Zuko without suspicion. Why didn't' I find out the guards name and number I'm impersonating? Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Dread and desperation fills me and I know, suddenly, what I have to do. There's no time to come up with anything else.

My attention falls to the guards around our table, setting up to play a game of cards. I watch for a few minutes in silence. Sokka was more of a cards player than me. Finally, I keep my voice light and say, "Hey Lee, would you mind showing me the patrol room? I can't remember where it is."

"Oh, no!" says Lee, and I think for a second he's talking to me as he throws his cards down. "Not again, Kahn!"

"Read em and weep, boys," says the man named Kahn. He sets down his cards and gathers up his winnings with a collective groan from the other guards.

Lee glances at me, shaking his head. "Unbelievable," he says, disappointed. "Yeah I've got a little more time before my next shift. Maybe I can walk off my wounded pride while I'm at it."

Kahn gives a mocking salute as we leave the lounge. I already know where the patrol room is from the map, but I let Lee lead me anyway.

"Are you always this tense?" Lee asks, after some silence has passed.

Do I look as tense as I feel? I force myself to relax and shrug. "I just don't want to forget my number."

"How can you forget it? It's only four numbers."

"Oh really?" He's making this too easy. "What's yours, then?"

"5251," he says, smug. "Boom."

_Lee, 5251. 5251. 5251._

Once we finally enter an empty corridor—and I really started to panic because we're almost there and nowhere is empty in this place— I start trying to open doors, searching for one that's unlocked. Most of them aren't.

"What are you doing?" Lee asks with a laugh.

I finally find one that's open and even better, it looks abandoned. Just dusty filing cabinets and an old, rickety desk. I turn to him with slight sympathy he'll never see.

"This," I say. Then I pull out my glove and electrify him in the chest. He makes a sound of surprise, his body convulses in white-blue currents, and I catch him before he hits the ground. I drag him inside and shut the door. He's heavy with all that armor on and it takes me a few minutes to prop him against one of the walls of the storage closet. I bend down so we're eye to eye.

"You should have kept your helmet on," I say to him quietly. With his eyes closed, he looks even younger, his thick lashes dusting his pale cheeks. "You seem like a nice guy, for a prison guard. I used to be nice." I stand up and take a deep breath. "I'm sorry about this."

If I punch him or hit him over the head with something—which I don't have—it can leave a mark, drawing suspicion. We already left two tied up in one storage room and once they're found the prison may go on lock down. This has to look less like an assault.

I raise my glove to his temple. My hand shakes. I don't want to kill him. I just want him to forget me, to wake up confused with little memory, too out of it to fulfill his patrol duties while I take his shifts. If they find him and send someone in his place…well, I'll deal with that if it happens.

I close my eyes and wield the glove to use as little power as possible. I squeeze my fist and release the small surge, opening my eyes at the last second. Lee's body jerks in response. I stare at him, wondering if I can live with myself if I leave this room unsure if I killed him or not—unsure I can live if I did.

After several long minutes stretch by, I lean down and check his pulse. It's quiet, but it's there. Relief washes over me, but when I leave the room, my hands are still shaking. A young man had to suffer, maybe forever, for my mistake, for trying to help me. Not just a young man, but a prison guard of the Capital. I know I should feel like I won a small victory, but I don't. All this scheming, lying, deceit, violence…I just feel like another part of my soul is lost. When this is all over, I wonder if there will be anything left in me, anything good.

I pass a group of guards escorting a handful of prisoners through the corridors. The masked prisoners keep their heads bowed, their shoulders slumped. The guard in the rear shoves one of the prisoners in the back to walk faster. No matter how laid back they are in the lounge, I notice they are stern and cold on duty. Cruel, even. Just like in Nine.

I speed up before I do something stupid, knowing twenty minutes has definitely, definitely passed and Zuko and Bowen will be inside somewhere. I find the patrol room and on the back wall is a huge poster of guard schedules and duties. There are only a few guards in here now, talking amongst themselves. I search the wall, find Lee 5251, glance at the clock on the wall, and leave before they can ask me anything.

Lee is supposed to stand guard over Observation Deck 3 above the yard in about ten minutes, so I head that way. At least that will give me time to think of a way to find Zuko.

When I get there, I notice the third level is about forty five feet high, giving me a complete view of the yard below. About fifty prisoners stand in the yard, many of them bound in chains. I've found out they only get one hour out of the day to be in the fresh air. I search the guards below, trying to see if by some miracle Zuko is down there. Not that I can see much from here.

"Check out the _victor_," one of the guards on patrol with me sneers. I whip my head around so fast my neck nearly breaks, but the guard isn't looking at me. He's pointing down in the yard. "Not so victorious now, is he?"

I open my mouth before I think. "Who?"

The guards look over at me and for a moment, I panic. Do they know Lee is supposed to be up here? Or do rotations change every day? I'm about to take off running when one of the guards finally mocks, "The _swordmaster_."

Relief only lasts a second. My stomach clenches.

Piandao. It has to be. He's the only one I've ever known to be called that.

I lean forward over the railing in the direction the guard had pointed. It's so hard to tell from here—everyone is wearing those red suits and masks—but one of the prisoner's skin strikes a contrast to the others. He's talking to another prisoner. My hope escalates. Could it be Jeong Jeong? Maybe they know what happened to my dad?

"Ward B is so boring," one of the guards complains. "Come on, give us a riot!"

Ward B. If I can't get down there, at least I know where to look for them.

I keep my eye on Piandao—at least who I think might be him—and the bell eventually rings. One of the guards below orders the prisoners back to their cells. They form into lines, an eerie synchronization under the crimson sky, and are lead out of the yard, surrounded by guards with fire whips. If I'm asked to bend fire, I'll be in major trouble.

When my—Lee's—shift is over, I head toward Ward B. I have to pull out my map and quickly scan it to remember exactly where to go. I try to walk slowly, but I'm too anxious. I'm in the nearby corridor now, turn a corner—and am slammed into a wall, two strong arms pinning me against it.

"What do you think you're doing?"

My scream dies in my throat, swept away by relief so great I want to cry. I sag in relief. "Zuko?"

"Do you have any idea—_what are you doing?_" he demands again, sounding so angry I'm surprised steam doesn't whistle from his nose.

I can't even answer, too wrapped up in only one question of my own. "How did you find me?"

"Toph told us what happened," he says. He finally lets go, glancing around to make sure we're still alone. "I asked around about the prisoners and figured you'd come here."

I wonder how long he's been waiting near this ward, though I'm not surprised he knew me well enough to figure out where I'd go. "Where's Bowen?" I ask.

"I put in him a cell in Ward B." Zuko shakes his head slightly. "He took a beating."

"For what?" I demand angerly.

"None of the guards questioned me, but we were stopped by a Captain. He demanded a reason for me escorting him. Before I could say anything, Bowen said he was trying to escape. The Captain threatened to put him in a cooler. Then Bowen…he came up with a different punishment."

"What kind of punishment?"

Zuko hesitates. "Five lashes."

I cringe. I've been lashed before, and still have the scars as a reminder. It's unbearable.

"And the Captain just agreed?" I say, guilt ridden.

"Bowen was cocky. He was asking for it." Because he knew how much worse matters would be if we were all split up here. "At least we know exactly where he is."

I force myself to nod. "Yeah."

Zuko notices my tone and tilts his head at me. "What is it?"

There's no avoiding the truth. I take a deep breath. "My dad…he isn't here. He's been transferred. We came here for nothing."

Zuko is quiet for a moment. "Maybe not nothing," he says finally. "There's other…members."

Members of the White Lotus—Piandao and Jeong Jeong. Of course. How selfish am I?

I nod at him. "We need to figure out a way to escape. But first, I want to ask them if they know what happened to my dad."

Zuko leads me to Jeong Jeong's cell. He must have been here a while to know where his cell was. He pulls out a key—why didn't I think to steal one of those?—and unlocks Jeong Jeong's door.

"You have five minutes, max," says Zuko. Then he slides it open and I slip inside.

The cell is dark, nearly empty, with a hard looking bed in the corner. Jeong Jeong is lying flat on his back.

"What now?" he asks in his raspy voice.

"Thought I'd return a favor," I say, slipping off my helmet.

Jeong Jeong sits up. "Katara?" he says, his voice laced with surprise. I can't remember if he's ever said my name before. Even in the dim light he looks thinner, his wild white hair shaved off. Staring at him through his white mask sends a chill down my spine. I wish he'd take it off.

"I'm here with other members," I say. "We're going to rescue you."

"You foolish girl, you won't even be able to rescue yourself."

"What happened with my dad?" I demand, ignoring his jabs. "Where was he transferred to?"

"Your…" Jeong Jeong curses. "Your father is not here. Has never been here."

"L—the guard," I stammer out, "he said the prisoners from Nine were transferred."

"Did he say _recently_ transferred?"

"Yes…I mean…maybe…I don't—" What had Lee said? He said they were transferred. I know he did. I _know_ he did. Right? Or…

I suddenly want to scream. I plunk down on Jeong Jeong's bed, struggling to breathe.

"I have been here for some time, and there have been no Water Tribe prisoners. If there were at any time, they _have_ been transferred. But it was not recently."

I realize only now that I didn't specify either. I didn't ask Lee _when_ the prisoners were transferred, only _where_ to. I just assumed it was recently. It could have been months or years ago. Maybe that's why he had looked surprised when I asked about them.

But something isn't right. Something isn't adding up.

"He was supposed to be here," I say quietly. "He said…he said he was."

Jeong Jeong snorts, but it lacks any real feeling. This place has taken a toll on him. "It would seem this _he_ has set you up for a trap, little mouse. And you walked right into it."

I shake my head, no words coming out. No, he wouldn't. He _wouldn't_. There had to be a mistake, an explanation.

Zuko bangs on the door, just as a bell rings to signal another ward entering the yard. "It was the General," I say, my voice rushed and quiet. Jeong Jeong stares at me and I wish more than anything that I didn't have that mask between us. "Well?" I demand.

But he says nothing, and that's worse than anything.

The door rips open. "Let's go!" Zuko snarls. He pulls me from the cell and locks it back. Then we're speed walking to the bottom level of the ward, toward a shadowy alcove that offers concealment near the stairs.

"Well?" Zuko questions. I look up at him, swallowing back bile. I open my mouth, close it, then try again.

"He's never been here," I say numbly. Zuko tilts his head, forcing me to elaborate. "My dad…it was a lie, Zuko."

A pause. "Are you saying my uncle is a liar?" he asks coldly.

"I don't know what I'm saying."

"No, you're calling my uncle a liar."

"All I know is that my dad isn't here, he's never been here, and that information is false. This…" I wave my hand around frantically "this is probably a trap. For me, maybe you. We have to get out of here before they recognize us."

"No. Uncle wouldn't do that," Zuko grits out.

I don't know what anyone would or wouldn't do in this world. Not anymore.

I say nothing, which makes the prince even angrier. He snarls and punches the wall, his hand scorching the metal. Now used to his bursts of anger, I don't flinch. I'm just glad no one is around to see.

"I'm going to look for an escape and find Toph," I say, unable to look at him. And because I can't face Bowen either, not after what he's gone through, I add, "You should probably tell Bowen."

"We're not splitting up." His tone leaves no room for argument.

"There was a time when you wanted to," I say, almost laughing, only nothing is funny right now.

Zuko pauses. "Someone once told me our chances of surviving are better when we're together," he says.

I look at him, staring into the face of a prison guard helmet, with black shadows for eyes and cold maroon metal. I wish I can see his eyes, his scar, his messy hair. Looking into the face of a guard only reminds me exactly where Zuko comes from, and where he has to go.

My heart suddenly feels like it's breaking, but I still reach out and grasp his gloved hand, squeezing tightly. "Then come with me."

He does.

I pause when we reach the main entrance. It's still empty, just like how Toph and I had left it. Maybe this entrance isn't used like the one at the Capital. Maybe those two guards weren't stationed here, just passing through the room. No matter, we exit quickly.

Toph is waiting outside, hidden in a makeshift tent of rock near where we agreed to meet up. The steam offers me cover as I sneak outside toward her tent. Zuko stays on the grounds just in case. There may be no one in the front entrance, but there are guards patrolling the walls, towers, and grounds. When I get close enough, I call out her name and she lets one of the walls drop. I shuffle inside, and the wall goes back up.

"It's really dark in here," I think aloud.

"Oh, what a nightmare!"

I cringe. "Sorry, Toph."

"What'd you expect? A cozy fire, some fluffy pillows, and a bed? Come back tomorrow— we'll have all the luxuries."

"I expected my dad to be here," I admit.

"Wait, what?"

"I think we were betrayed, Toph." I can't force myself to say his name out loud. I just can't believe it.

"So you're saying we risked everything for _nothing_? He's not even here?"

I shake my head. "No."

Toph groans. "I knew I should have left without you idiots."

"Oh yeah? How would you do that?" I snap at her.

"Those freezing metal boats in the walls."

"They aren't….the coolers?" She must have sensed their metal. Some are on the ground level, so she could have touched them to know how cold they are.

"Whatever you want to call em." She flips a hand.

Then an idea dawns on me. "Toph, that's perfect!"

"What's perfect?" she grumbles.

"They aren't boats, but they might just work as one. To keep the cold in, it has to keep the heat out. If we can find a blind spot between the guard towers, we'll be able to escape tonight with the help of coverage from the steam." Sokka would be so proud if he was here right now. "I noticed the current earlier—we'll be able to float right out of here."

"All the way back to Thirteen?"

"Well, I didn't say it wouldn't be a long float."

"And how many of us are we talking about?"

"Six," I offer with a cringe. "It will be a tight squeeze."

She mumbles something under her breath. "Just tell me what to do."

* * *

><p>Glancing around to make sure no one notices me, I unlock the cell and slip inside.<p>

Bowen's voice seems to travel in the dark. "You make a worthy prison guard, my lady," he says.

I shut the door and shuffle to his side quickly. "How are you?" He's sitting stiffly on his bed, legs dangling over, fists balled on his thighs as if he's in pain. No doubt he is.

"I've seen better days," he grits out. "And worse."

"Here. I took this from the healer's quarters." I pull out a jar of salve. "It will have to do for now."

Bowen slips out of his mask, then his shirt with a grimace. I stare at his back, crisscrossed with scorching, blistering marks, a few seconds before gently applying the salve to his skin. He stiffens and hisses through his teeth, but the salve works quickly and in a few minutes, he's relaxing a little.

"I'm afraid I have worse news," I tell him. I add bandages next, wrapping them around his back and chest. Crusts of blood stain his tanned skin. They didn't bother to wash him up.

"We're staying for an extended holiday?" he asks.

I tell him the plan. To his credit, he doesn't fight me on it.

Trying to be gentle, but not so gentle it draws attention to us, I keep my grip tight on his elbow as I lead him outside his cell, letting him use part of his weight on me. The ward is a huge square room, about six floors high, with multiple cells on each wall. The prisoners in Ward B are supposed to be locked in their cells, so I'm not surprised when another guard stops us on the first floor.

"Where are you going?" he asks, his voice deep. I have to crane my neck back to look up at her because she's so tall.

"Caught this prisoner attacking a fellow guard," I say, trying to sound stern. "I think he needs some time to cool off."

The tall guard laughs, sending a chill down my spine. "Leave him all night."

"I plan on it."

Once we're out of earshot, Bowen leans down and whispers, "I feel like you're enjoying this."

I almost laugh.

We reach the cooler, the one that specifically offers a blind spot outside. I unlock the first door with Zuko's key and slide it open. Then I open the second door. Frost and freezing air escapes into the corridor. I glance around—only two on patrol right now, neither looking at me. "Toph will help you once you unbolt it," I say to Bowen. "Remember, wait for her signal."

Bowen moves slowly inside and takes a seat in the frigid cell, crossing his arms to keep warm. "Outstanding," he murmurs. It's so cold I can see his breath.

"Nightfall is in about an hour," I offer gently. "Try not to freeze to death."

He looks at me, but I can't read his expression because of prisoner's mask. I hate it on him, I decide, wanting to rip it off. "I don't exactly have the luxury of being able to regulate my own body heat."

Bowen had suggested Zuko be the one inside the cooler, but we eventually all agreed it would be faster with a Metalbender inside. We also can't risk Zuko's identity being discovered, especially now.

"I'm sorry," I say honestly.

"I know. Get out of here, Kat."

I close the door, and then slide the metal one back into place, locking it. I reassure myself by remembering Jin's strength with salves and medicine. She'll have something that will help Bowen's back heal faster.

Remembering Lee's final shift, I head to Ward C. There's only a handful of guards on duty, and I take my place where I see an opening on the first level. Ward C must not be the most dangerous of prisoners, because many of the guards are socializing. Zuko finds me quickly and I'm thankful we're able to talk inconspicuously.

"You ready?" he asks. He lowers his voice. "I got Piandao and Jeong Jeong out of their cells a few minutes ago. They'll be waiting with Toph down by the shore."

"Did you run into any trouble?"

"Nothing I couldn't handle."

I can't help but feel slightly guilty. How many more bodies will we leave behind?

When the shift is over, Zuko and I head toward the coolers. There isn't as many guards for the night shifts. We only encounter a handful on our way to the coolers, none of which stop us. Once we reach Bowen's cell, I knock three times. He knocks back. I unlock the door and Zuko and I slip inside. Immediately, I'm hit with a blast of chill, followed by a surge of heat and the salty breeze from the sea. The cell has been unbolted, leaving an opening for us to escape from the side of the prison. I can see the boiling water, steam stained red from the bloody moon. Bowen uses his Metalbending to lower the cooler—Toph is below, helping him.

Once the cooler is safely below on the shore, Toph bends a piece of earth up to the level of the cell, as if creating an elevator to carry us down. Zuko steps onto it as Bowen comes over to help me—he's going to seal the keyhole and door shut with metal, preventing anyone from entering. I'm relieved to see his bright green eyes, no longer hiding behind the mask. Toph is arguing with Zuko from below. I'm about to ask what they're going on about when suddenly I hear two guards coming this way.

"Quiet, someone's coming!" I hiss out, sliding the doors. One of the bolts is wedged in the way, preventing the doors from closing all the way.

I shoot a worried look to Bowen, who reads my mind and quickly removes the bolt with a flick of his hand. I'm halfway to closing the doors when I catch the guard's voice saying, "Did you know a new shipment's arriving at dawn? I hear they're from Nine."

My grip tightens and I freeze.

"Nine?" the female guard questions.

"Yeah. Been awhile since we've had some Water Tribe scum." Their laughter trails away as they leave the coolers. Bowen and I stare at each other, speechless.

"Katara, come on!"

I hear Zuko's voice as if from a dream. Mechanically, I slide the doors shut and Bowen seals the keyhole and the sides, locking us inside. Then I step onto the piece of earth as Toph lowers us down. I keep my grip tight on Zuko. He probably thinks it's for balance. He has no idea my mind is racing.

We reach the shore. Piandao and Jeong Jeong toss their masks into the boiling water. I watch as the white faces sink to the depths. Piandao, looking more gaunt and thin, turns to me with sincerity in his dark eyes. He bows. "Thank you, Katara. I owe you my life. My sword will be yours."

I'm still too stunned to do anything but move my head, somewhere between a shake and a nod.

"There's plenty of time for cuddling," says Toph. "Let's get out of here."

Jeong Jeong offers no words of thanks as he and Piandao enter the cooler. Piandao tries to help Bowen in next—I'm surprised to see Bowen rip his arm away from the swordmater's help. Toph uses the earth to propel herself inside. Zuko jumps in and holds out a hand for me to follow. I hesitate, glancing back up at the prison.

"Kat," Bowen warns.

"What is it?" Zuko demands, glancing between the two of us. His hand drops.

I open my mouth—to say what, I don't know—when Bowen says, "Kat overheard some guards. There's going to be a shipment of prisoners here at dawn. Prisoners from Nine."

Silence. Piandao is the one to break it. "Are you positive?"

I finally find my voice. "That's what I heard," I say. "I'm sure."

Maybe the General was right after all. His timing was just incorrect. What a fool I have been for even considering a betrayal.

"Your father could be with them," says Zuko, not bothering to demand an apology from me.

I look at the prince, his expression louder than any words he can say: where I go, he goes. And where I stay, he stays. Then I notice Bowen, also determined, but clearly still in pain from the lashing. Piandao and Jeong Jeong, so close to freedom after weeks of incarceration. And Toph, staring at her feet, revealing nothing.

"I know," I say thickly, "and it doesn't matter."

It's Toph's voice that stands out. "What? He's the reason we came here."

"I know that, but I won't risk your lives any more than I already have." My dad might be here in the morning. He might not. I can't risk their safety, not when we're so close, on chance. "I'll find another way, another time, to save him."

Toph stares at me.

"Katara," Zuko starts.

"It's okay." I slide off my helmet and look at him, needing to face him straight on. But my eyes connect with Toph's once again and I know, suddenly, that she knows what I'm going to do. She can hear it in my voice. And she won't fight me.

I move to the edge of the shore, grip the top of the cooler, and press my lips to Zuko. He doesn't react at first, maybe too surprised by my boldness, but then his warm lips move against mine. It reminds me how much I miss being close to him. I can feel his confusion as I pull away, all too quickly. He stares at me with that same bewilderment and wonder, emotions usually closed to him, completely open on his face.

"Go," I say softly.

He blinks and gathers himself. "What?"

But I'm not talking to him. Toph shoves forward, sending the cooler away from the shore with a blast from the rocky earth. Zuko has the sense not to call out my name, but he still reacts. Being as incredibly fast as he is, he lunges forward in a flash. But Toph is fast too and has the advantage of anticipating his moves. Metal clasps around his wrist before he can attempt to leap forward, binding him to the cooler.

The prince turns and snarls. Even from here I can sense his fury. He raises his other hand and uses fire to try to burn through the metal encasing him, and then that hand is wrapped in metal, too. With both wrists now bound, he swings up a leg, fire blazing—and a slice of metal wraps around his ankle, locking him down. Toph slashes her hand down again and Zuko's other foot is pinned to the cooler. It all happens in a matter of seconds. Feet and wrists bound, he's become a prisoner himself.

Zuko turns back around and our gazes lock. His eyes are ablaze.

"It's okay," I say again, even if he can't hear me. A tear slips down my cheek. "It's okay."

As the cooler disappears into the steamy night, his eyes drown me in their heated emotion. So much rage.

Rage and sadness and worst of all, betrayal. All directed at me.

_Forgive me, Zuko. But you can't come with me this time._

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Stay tuned for part three! As always, I love your feedback and appreciate every single review. I still go back and look at reviews from TBG and TRoO. Some of which I'll actually be responding to in the upcoming review responses. Thank you once again for sticking with me. You guys mean a lot to me and I've truly enjoyed every moment of telling this story. :D

Also, it's time for a** character Q&A** I believe! (I'm doing one every 5 chapters.) As always, remember I'm only answering one question per reviewer, so choose your question/character wisely! I also won't answer anything too spoilery especially where feelings are concerned. :P If you aren't sure if yours is spoilery, feel free to ask a few and I'll choose one. :D


	11. The Boiling Rock: The Betrayal

**A/N:** This chapter is by far the longest one I've ever written at almost 8,000 words. Wowza! But I was determined to finish TBR in three chapters. :P So I'm sorry for the wait; I hope the length makes up for it. Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 11 - The Boiling Rock: The Betrayal<strong>

I stare out onto the boiling lake longer than I should, feeling like I've just ripped a piece of my heart out. It's for the best, I remind myself. I know it. The problem is: I don't know if I can pull this off without him.

The walk back into the prison is a long one, a doomed one. Maybe that's another reason I did it.

I'm probably never getting off this island.

I'm too afraid to be caught in the guards quarters, so I find an abandoned storage room and settle in for some sleep. I shove a bookcase in front of me, keeping me hidden in the shadows should someone come in. I don't risk my identity, so I keep my helmet on. My breath is warm against my cheeks and wearing this armor is miserable, but it's a precaution I have to take.

I fall asleep long after settling in, my final thoughts drifting to a pair of gold eyes and my dad's warm smile—images I'm afraid I may never see again.

* * *

><p>I'm jolted awake by a loud noise—a piercing ringing. Swiping under my helmet to wipe sleep out of my eyes, I stumble out from the closet, peering into the corridor. The ringing is louder here, echoing in my ear. It's a bell, a different sort of resounding from the one that signals prisoner rotations.<p>

Guards are shuffling quickly down the corridor. I step outside the closet and shut the door. "Captains, secure the perimeter and lock down the prisoners!" someone shouts. "Guards, report to the yard immediately for inspection!"

Now fully alert, I try to make for an escape, but I'm shoved forward by the stampede of guards. And there's no avoiding it. Captains search every room, every nook and cranny, issuing all the guards to the yard. I pause long enough that I'm bumped from behind. "Get going!" someone barks.

I move forward numbly, following the guards like a herd of cattle, until warm fresh air tickles my nose. The yard is swarming with even more guards. The moon glints above us, making time even more disorienting. How long did I sleep?

We're immediately issued into lines. It's not long before the gates are closing, trapping us inside. Fleeing is not an option, but I still glance around anyway. The walls are high, but I can probably scale the first and second story. But even if I did make it up the walls, I have nowhere to go.

Standing at the front, facing us, is a row of guards—Captains, most likely—and in the middle is a helmetless man with shoulder length black hair and a pointed, angry looking face. Instead of a helmet he wears a black and gold headpiece. Intimidation and power radiates from him. He must be the warden. And next to him, looking tired and weak, but very much alive, is Lee.

I stop breathing.

The warden wastes no time and starts to pace in front of the guards. The yard is utterly quiet. "There seems to be an imposter among us," he starts calmly. "We have new prisoners arriving in a few hours, so this issue will be resolved in a timely matter." The words _or else_ hangs in the air. He stops and turns to face us. "Step forward now, Impostor, and be sentenced for one year. Make this harder for yourself, and you will be sentenced for a very, very long time."

No one moves. For a moment I think about it. If I can survive the brutal winter and the Black Games, if Ursa can survive five years, surely I can survive one here? As if my brother is here with me, I hear his voice in my mind: _Don't move._

It takes everything in me, but I stay where I am.

"No? Pity." The warden doesn't sound sympathetic at all. "Very well. Let us begin."

And that's when I really start to panic. The Captains move down the lines and summon one guard at a time. Each guard is asked to remove their helmet, state their name and number, and let Lee look them over thoroughly. Some he dismisses right away—some other females, especially ones with dark hair and near my height, he hesitates on. He doesn't look completely all there, but I'm still afraid he'll remember me when he hears my voice.

The line moves forward. I glance around, searching for another possible escape. There is none. If I run, it will be all too obvious it's me. My heart races and I fight back tears. I'll be lucky if I'm sentenced here, lucky if they don't send me to the Fire Lord himself.

Soon enough, I'm so close that I can hear Lee mumble to the warden, "It was a girl."

"She may have accomplices," says the warden. With every name and number, it's checked off on a long scroll as confirmation.

There are only five more guards in front of me now. I have no name, no number. No chance.

Four guards.

Will they keep me here? Do I have a better chance of escaping if they send me back to the Capital?

Three guards.

There's movement from my right, the guards parting like water as another walks through them toward the front. The guard is tall, walking with purpose. He slips off their helmet and—

And the world stops.

First, nothing but gasps, then whispers and pointed fingers and chatter breaks across the yard. My stomach drops and I think, for a moment, that I'm going to faint. Somehow I manage to keep from swaying and falling to my knees, but the edges of my vision smudge together in haze of angry crimson.

"_Zuko._" His name slips from my lips, unheard in the sea of restlessness and babble. I can't seem to form a coherent thought other than: How?

The warden stares at the prince in pure shock and it takes him a moment to recover. His eyes glow with glee. A raised hand and the yard falls silent. "Well, this _is_ a surprise," he draws. "The victim prince, turned traitor."

"Not a traitor," says Zuko. His voice is hard and strong. "I was kidnapped by the real traitors that call themselves Equalists. I used it as an opportunity to spy on them for the Capital."

I suck in a sharp breath, staring. Just staring, incapable of doing anything else.

The guards bristle. "Silence!" the warden snaps. He turns back to Zuko with distrust in his eyes. He opens his mouth, but it isn't his voice that rings out.

"I will take this as my cue." The lazy drawl makes my skin crawl. The row of guards part and a tall man steps forward, as if materializing from shadow. Arms crossed behind his back, a slight smirk to his lips, he looks like a predator hunting his prey. Zhao. _Why is Zhao here? _"I am very, very interested in how you ended up here, Prince Zuko. It must be quite a tale."

"Admiral," the warden starts, but Zhao holds up a hand to silence him. The warden's upper lip curls. This is a man who is not used to being silenced or taking orders.

"I will take it from here, Warden," says Zhao, his calculating eyes never leaving the prince.

The warden jerks a hand toward Lee. "The boy says it was a girl impostor."

"K-Kira," Lee offers quietly.

"How many more are there?" the warden asks.

"This is a private matter," says Zuko. "I expect to be on the first ship to the Capital in the morning to discuss our next course of action with my father."

No.

_No_. The word echoes in my mind, over and over, until my mind is nothing but a blank space. No, no, no, no.

"Of course," offers Zhao. His tone is equal part condescending, equally charming. "You have been most missed at the Capital."

Zhao holds out his arm, gesturing for Zuko to follow. I expect the prince to turn around from the sheer force of my stare. But he just walks forward, slicing through the guards, and heads to the gates that will take him away. He disappears from my sight without a backward glance, without a single hesitation. Just like that, he's gone, and I'm truly alone.

_The next course of action._

The warden starts speaking again, but his words buzz past my ears as my mind slips in and out of focus. He leaves us standing in the yard, waiting further instruction—we stay for what feels like a long while before he returns. And then I feel myself being pushed and shoved around. My body just goes with it. I trip when my feet hit something hard—stairs. I'm being pushed up a set of stairs, along with another dozen guards. I climb up robotically until we reach the top and follow the rest of the guards across a narrow metal path. It leads us to a large rectangular platform, high above the yard. The warm, thick air heats my face, the moon casting a bloody crimson across the shiny metal of the platform. I glance up at it, wondering why it has betrayed me, too.

"Assemble for new prisoners and the warden!" a guard shouts. Immediately, the remaining guards move into place, creating a box of security. I follow the guard in front of me, so mechanically that another guard steers me to the correct place. He says something I don't hear.

And then we wait. I don't know how long, because I've submerged into a sea of darkness with no hope of resurfacing, but my feet are aching when I hear the metal cables screech. The gondola finally emerges from the steam. It comes to a stop at the platform and two guards wrench open the doors. One by one, prisoners file out, already dressed in fresh uniforms, but not yet shaved. I stare, unblinking, as one, two, at least a dozen prisoners arrive.

And they aren't just prisoners. They're _Province 9_ prisoners.

My heart races, so fast I'm shocked no one can hear it pounding in my chest. A tall woman steps out, with beaded gray hair and a face I don't recall—and then I see him, the last prisoner to step off the gondola.

_Dad._

I almost run to him, wanting to throw my arms around his neck and hold him forever. But I know better, so I stay where I am. He looks just as I last saw him, with shoulder length brown hair studded with two beads and bright blue eyes, surrounded by slight aging lines. But his mouth is hard, and so are his eyes, when he takes his place next to the other prisoners.

A tear slides down my cheek. I make no move to wipe it away. Dad. _Dad. You're really here. You're alive._

Several guards shove the prisoners to form a line as the warden, escorted by two other guards, makes his way across the bridge. He comes to a stop and places his hands behind his back, surveying the prisoners with a cruel sort of glee. "Welcome to the Boiling Rock," he says, moving to pace in front of them. "I'm sure you've heard horrible rumors about how we do things on our little island. Your stay can be painless, or it can live up to the nightmares you've been lead to believe." He pauses in front of my dad, who has kept his gaze downcast.

"The first rule," the warden says, tilting his head closer to my dad, "is respect. You _will_ look me in the eye when I'm speaking to you. Is that clear?"

My dad says nothing.

"Look me in the eye, prisoner," the warden sneers.

Without hesitation, a single word rings out. "No," Dad says. A stab of pride flashes through me, followed quickly by worry.

"No?" the warden questions. He glances around—none of the other prisoners dare look away, fear lingering in their eyes. He looks amused, with an undercurrent of wrath. "Oh, this one is defiant and strong willed." His lips twist into a cruel smile as he peers back toward my dad. "I'll enjoy breaking you."

The warden's head barely moves, a slight nod, and I see the flash of fire before I can blink—a guard from behind lashes my dad in the back, sending him to his knees. His hands are bound and his head bows forward in pain. He doesn't cry out, but I can see the fabric across his back is torn and singed from the fire.

The warden drops to one knee and tilts his head sideways to look at him. "Now, look at me," he says, quiet and cold.

My dad hesitates. The guard behind pulls back, ready to unleash another whipping. _Just do it_, I think desperately. _Swallow your pride_.

Slowly, my dad lifts his head. His blue eyes shine with contempt.

"Good. Now you're learning," says the warden. He rises, satisfied. My dad tries to do the same, but the warden holds up a hand and says, "Oh no. You stay where you are. I think I like you on your knees where you belong." Then he moves away and turns to face the rest of the prisoners.

My dad obeys, his fists balling together.

"You are no longer a member of your province," says the warden, his voice ringing out clear. "You are a prisoner of the Boiling Rock. Your name does not matter. Your family does not matter. _You_ do not matter." He pauses cruelly. Rage boils inside me as he starts to pace again. "When you pass through inspection, your hair will be shaved. You will receive a mask. You will wear it at all times outside your cell and you will follow our rules. Disorderly conduct will result in whippings, trips to the coolers, or whatever we see fit." That cruel smile returns briefly before he waves a hand. "Take them to inspection and get them out of my sight."

I don't want to risk losing my dad in the sea of identical faces, so I follow them to inspection, as though I'm another escort. I recognize several other prisoners, one of them as Onri from the White House. He looks tired, a man twice his age. My heart constricts, knowing I have no idea how to save him too. I don't even know how I'm going to save myself.

My mind drifts back to Zuko. Too many emotions swirl inside me. Rage, deceit, confusion. What happened to the others? How did he get back here? Did he turn himself in before I was caught, or will his heart always belong to his father and the Capital? The most infuriating part is that I don't know. I don't know because he didn't tell me either way. And he didn't find me when he returned. We're supposed to be a team—we've _always_ been a team. How...how is this happening?

_Why? _I think angrily, wondering if I'll ever know the answer. _Is this how you felt when I left you? Are you doing this to get back at me? To get back at your mother? Are you betraying me, or saving me?_

I stand guard in the inspection room and watch in stunned horror as they shave my dad's beautiful hair and his face. The beads fall to the ground, kicked away like soot on their boots, forgotten. He stands tall, proud, unbroken. The mask gets placed over his face and he's issued from the room. The next person steps forward and repeats the process. A sob threatens to tear out of my chest and I force myself to stay there, watching as each of my people loses their identities, stripped to nothing. It's worse than being whipped, worse than the fresh betrayal I feel. I'm filled with grief, with a boiling rage, heating my blood and peaking in my core. My nails dig into my palms, drawing blood, to stop me from screaming. Something dark and powerful swirls inside me, threatening to consume me.

I leave the room, not caring if I'm stopped. I dare someone to try.

I find out the prisoners from Nine are kept in Ward A. I unlock each door I come across and demand their name if they're masked. Some give me their name—some say it doesn't matter, some spit at my feet. It takes about ten or twelve cells before I find him. As I expect, he's not wearing his mask. I shut the door and slide off my helmet before he can say anything.

My dad blinks, as though he doesn't believe what he's seeing. And then he's pulling me into a bone-crushing hug. I hug him back with equal strength and only lessen my grip when he winces.

"Katara," he breathes into my hair. "Oh Katara, how are you here?"

"Hi dad." My voice breaks and I hold him tighter. "I've missed you."

_And I need you now more than ever._

He pulls back, gripping my shoulders. His eyes rake over me. He looks almost like a stranger, with his hair shaved so short and the goatee gone. But his eyes are familiar and so is his warm smile. "How can this be?" he asks.

"Let me see your back." I pull out a jar of salve I took from the infirmary. "This should help with the scarring and the pain."

"I'll survive," he says gruffly. "How—what are you doing here?"

"I'm here to save you." A cold laugh escapes me, one I don't really recognize. "My plans have backfired, but I'm here."

He wipes away my tears, like he always has. "I didn't know when I would see you again."

"I'm sorry I left you," I say quietly. More tears slip down my cheeks. "I thought I was doing the right thing. Now I don't know anymore. I don't know anything."

He continues to look at me, as if memorizing my face. His eyes flicker to the door. "Someone will come soon."

"They won't," I assure him. "Not during the night. If they do, I'll handle it."

"You'll handle it?" He frowns, tilting his head. "Where has my daughter gone?" he murmurs, more to himself than to me.

Part of her died in the Games, I want to say. Died with Sokka, with the other tributes, with Hama and June and the violence I've committed. Died after all the lies, the deceit, the betrayals. After today.

And that part of her is never coming back.

"What happened to Province 9?" I manage to ask. "Why are you here?" He opens his mouth, but I put up a finger to silence him. I can hear guards chatting nearby. "We need to come up with an escape plan, quickly," I whisper.

My dad sits down on the floor and lets me apply the salve to his back. I slide my hand under his shirt, blotting against the harsh burns lightly. His teeth grind together, but he makes no other sound. Once I finish, I slide down the wall to sit next to him, needing to be close, needing that comfort.

He glances at me. "First, how did _you_ get here?"

"I had accomplices." The words hurt more than I expect. "They escaped with several…others. I stayed behind, hoping you would be here soon."

"You stayed alone?"

Yes. No.

I swallow hard. "I'm alone now," I settle on saying.

My dad doesn't push me, even though I can tell he wants to. Maybe it's my voice, maybe something on my face, I don't know.

"There's no way off this island," he says, rubbing his face tiredly.

I sit up a little straighter, an idea blooming. "Yes there is. The same way you came in." The same way Ursa escaped.

"Do they keep the gondolas stationed here?"

"I don't think so, but one is departing in the morning."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure." My jaw clenches, determination hardening my heart. "But we'll be the ones leaving."

* * *

><p>Sokka gets his ideas and brains from my dad, so it's no surprise it's my dad that comes up with the escape plan. It sounds easy, but I know it will be harder to pull off: create a riot in the yard for distraction, take the warden hostage, escape on the gondola.<p>

I know there's an extremely high chance I'll run into Zuko. After all, we're going to commandeer _his_ gondola. Will he stop me? Will he let us go? Will he try to escape with us? I have no idea what game he's playing now and I won't risk my dad's safety on trying to figure it out. I'll just have to stick to our plan.

I make my way to the control center early the morning after finding my dad. Even though the doors can be unlocked with keys, they can all unlock at the same time with the controls. When I arrive, only one guard is standing by the levers.

"I received orders to let the prisoners in Ward A into the yard," I say.

The guard looks at me. "Why?" the woman asks. "We're on lockdown until midday tomorrow."

_Until Zuko and Zhao are gone._

"I don't know why," I say. "I don't question the warden."

"The warden sent you?" The woman sounds like she's narrowing her eyes. "Where's your order papers?"

"He didn't give me any!" I say in exasperation. "Do you really want me to go back and ask him for _paperwork_? He's already in a bad mood."

"I know," the woman says quietly. She pauses. "It's just…we never release prisoners when we're in lockdown."

"Maybe he wants to question them himself, like he did the guards." I shrug. "I've learned not to question him. Maybe you should too. He threw me in a cooler once for asking him to repeat his order."

"Yeah," says the woman, nodding to herself. "Yeah, you're right." She reaches forward and pulls down a lever labeled Ward A. There's a clicking sort of sound, deep within the prison. Ward A is open.

I walk quickly through the corridors, heading toward the yard. It's only a matter of time before the warden realizes the prisoners are there. I can't afford to be stopped in the corridors either.

The yard is swarming with prisoners when I arrive. I find my dad quickly, waiting under the spot we designated to meet. Standing around him are more prisoners from Province 9. One of them grasps my arm and leans in close.

"Katara," he whispers. I recognize his voice. Onri. "It's so good to see you, even in these conditions."

I glance at my dad, wishing he can see my face. _I don't know if we can save all of them_, I want to say.

"It's good to see you too," I say to Onri. "I hope you're ready to make a riot."

He laughs, and then he's lost in the crowd. The next thing I hear is a resounding, "Riot, riot, riot!" being chanted. Onri even shoves one prisoner in the back for emphasis. I tense, waiting for the chaos to erupt.

But no one moves or joins in. The prisoners glance around, slightly confused. I move toward my dad. "Why isn't it working?" I ask, trying not to panic.

He shakes his head. "I don't know."

Onri tries again. Nothing.

I don't understand. I didn't account for the prisoners to do nothing. But when I look around, I see their masked faces turn their back on Onri, see their shoulders slump. _They have no fight left_, I realize. Ward A must not be the most dangerous, more daring prisoners that get thrown in coolers and whipped daily. No, these prisoners are just broken, not the ones capable of rioting. Not anymore.

"They have no reason to riot," says my dad, as if reading my mind.

"Then I'll give them one." Before he can stop me, before I can really think it through, I rip off my helmet and step forward, putting distance between myself and my dad.

"Prisoners!" I say loudly. "Maybe some of you know who I am, maybe you don't. My name is Katara and I'm the victor of the 75th Black Games. I'm only sixteen years old, but and I've watched my brother die in my arms. I killed three people and I can't always sleep at night. I've done horrible, terrible things, and even worse, I've seen terrible things and done nothing. This world has made me a monster I never wished to become."

I pause, fighting back tears. "I've spent my life watching the Capital hurt and punish those that I love. Some of you might be from the Capital or a Fire province—some of you aren't. But it doesn't matter because here we're all equal. And we deserve to live in a world of equality, where the Fire Nation is one of four nations that coexist in harmony."

I take a deep breath, aware I not only have the attention of the prisoners, but the guards as well. "They say you're the most feared, dangerous members of our society. Well, prove that today. Show the Capital _why_ they should fear you. Prisoners or innocents, this is no way for anyone to live." I glance up and see the Captains on the third floor balcony, watching on in silence. "Fight for your loved ones, for your province, for your name—for the things you were told don't matter. Fight for yourself!"

My dad, Onri, and the others from Nine, fall into a fighting stance, but no one else makes a move to fight. The silence stretches painfully. My stomach drops, and my arm clutching the electrified glove falters at my side. Above me, one of the Captains snickers.

"You foolish girl," he says, his voice ringing out over the yard. "Did you really think a few inspirational words would mend what is already broken? These prisoners lost their spirit long ago."

The silence is deafening. And then—

"Not all of us." I whip around in surprise at the voice. There, slowly taking off his mask, is the old man that could not bow the first day I was here, the one that fought back. I remember his voice. He tosses the mask to the ground and straightens, his chin high.

"An old man, a victor, and handful of Nine filth," says the Captain, mocking. "Should I request the warden and reinforcements?"

My dad slips off his mask and lets it fall to the ground. Onri follows next, and then several more Province 9 prisoners.

"Maybe you can start by not hiding up in that tower like a coward," I say coldly.

Some of the prisoners break into chatter. The Captain straightens, humor gone. "You are one step away from dying where you stand, Victor," he snarls at me.

"It wouldn't be the first time," I snap. "Kill me, then. I'm sure the Fire Lord will be interested in why you killed a fugitive that's wanted _alive_. That's if the Warden doesn't skin you to the bone first."

The Captain stares at me. Any minute now, the gondola will depart. One of our men is stationed at the top and I haven't seen him wave us on yet. Which means the gondola is still here. The riot has to happen before the warden can stop it. But how?

It's the old man that attacks first, the man that can barely stand. He shoves forward, sending fire toward one of the guards. The guard is younger, faster, and he counters it with a surge of flame of his own. But another prisoner jumps in, shielding the old man, deflecting it.

That's when the riot breaks loose. Prisoners fling off their masks and attack the guards. Fire and earth swirl together in a blend of chaos. Punches are thrown, bodies fly across the yard. It's screams and blood, torture and revenge. It's madness.

And it's my opening.

I shove my helmet back on and sprint across the yard to the main towers. I use the grooves in the wall to climb up. The metal isn't the same as branches, but suddenly I'm back in the arena scaling trees. My feet catch a bar and I use it to swing myself forward to the second level. I glance up the remaining distance. The wall is too flat, even for me, so I sprint to the end of the platform to go up the stairs. I take two at a time, breathing hard in all the armor that weighs me down.

I clear the last set of stairs. At the top, I finally see the warden and two guards, staring out over the railing. The warden is barreling orders at anyone who will listen. No one has seen me. Without hesitating, I knock the first guard to the ground with my glove. Then I duck away from the fire and slide sideways, narrowly missing a counter punch. My glove connects with the next guard's chest and he too hits the ground with a loud thud.

The warden whirls on me, eyes wide. "You—" he starts.

"My name isn't Kira." I take off my helmet, wanting him to see my face. "It's Katara. Does that name matter to you?" His eyes widen in recognition. But before he can do anything, I electrocute him in the leg, sending him to the ground. Then I slam him against the wall and tie his hands behind his back. I slip off his headpiece and tie it around his mouth.

It's not long before I see my dad, Onri, and the others running up the stairs. I do a quick count: four, five, six…it's not everyone I saw get off that gondola. I shoot my dad a frantic look, but he shakes his head. This is all that's left.

"That man," I start, my voice breaking at losing my people, "the one who—"

"Dead," says Onri, shaking his head. "He died a noble death."

Something inside me cracks. I didn't know his name, didn't know where he was from or what he had even done to be sent here. All I know is that he gave the people a spark, lighting a fire that will only grow. His courage gives me the strength to face the battle I know lies ahead.

We make our way quickly across the platforms, heading toward the gondola. The chaos is still ravaging below. When we reach the gondola, it's already started to take off, moving slowly along the metal cables. The surrounding guards fall back into a fighting stance at our arrival, but Onri whirls around so they can see the warden lying across his back.

"We have the warden," my dad says, his voice stern. "Step aside."

They hesitate only a moment before obeying. For good measure, I electrify all of them, even as my dad shouts at me to stop. He doesn't know what it feels like to be chased, to know your enemy is behind you. I won't give them the chance.

Looking on toward the gondola, one of the women with us says, slightly out of breath, "I thought it would still be here."

"Plans never go perfectly," I say, thankful we aren't too late. Stopping in front of the controls, I reach out and yank the lever down. The gondola halts in midair, about thirty to forty feet away.

A second passes before the doors are yanked open and a guard pops his head out. He ducks back inside. There's movement on the inside and finally Zhao appears, moving toward the front, where I can see him out the open windows.

"Another surprise," says Zhao, his voice laced with sensual curiosity, carrying across the breeze.

"One wrong word and I cut the cables!" I shout to him, brandishing my dagger.

Zhao seems like a calculating man, so I'm not surprised it takes him a long moment before he responds. "And how do you plan on overtaking this gondola, Katara?" The sound of my name, coming from him, sends a shiver down my spine. "Do you expect us to surrender quietly?"

Us. Himself, his guards, and Zuko. The collective term has the desired effect he wants, freezing my heart. His malicious smile says as much. My eyes move on their own accord and halt when they see the prince, standing on the far side of the gondola. His face reveals nothing, but his hands are tight on the railing.

Behind me, I hear a sharp intake of breath. "Is that…" my dad starts.

"I expect you want to live," I say, forcing myself to stay focused on Zhao and not let him get to me. "We've got the warden."

"There are more wardens."

Over my shoulder, I hear the warden's angry, muffled shouts against his bound mouth.

"His life is that meaningless to you?" I ask, not bothering to keep the surprise from my voice. "Is his life meaningless to the Fire Lord, who will have to replace him? The Boiling Rock is already in an uproar and without the warden to blame, who do you think the Fire Lord will hold accountable?"

Zhao stares at me. "If you cut the cables," he says calmly, after a long beat, "you will have to find another way off this island, won't you? And that will take time, time you don't have."

He's right, and he knows I know he's right. Still, I keep my voice level as I say, "I'll cut them before I ever surrender. Maybe I won't get off this island, but you won't either. If I go down, you're coming with me."

"Don't be a fool, Katara. You can still walk away from this."

It's Zuko's voice, calm and reassuring, and it sends my blood boiling. It takes everything in me not to scream at him, not to leap across this impossible distance and demand explanations—but I don't. I don't even look at him. I _can't_ look at him without my heart shattering.

And I can't do this if I'm broken.

"Perhaps you should listen to him," offers Zhao. I wonder, suddenly, what story Zuko gave to convince this man that we're no longer allies.

I wonder how much is true.

"He's just stalling for time," my dad murmurs in my ear.

_I know!_ I want to snap at him. He's right, though. Time is definitely something we don't have. Any second now, more guards will arrive and we'll be outnumbered. Zhao is standing close enough to the front of the gondola, his fingers casually drumming against the rail. If I can just get closer…

I glance across the steam, at the black cables traveling to the gondola. They're wide enough that I can probably run across if I go fast enough. I have good balance, but I don't know if it's _that_ good. But…

The sound of heavy boots pounding on the stairs sends me into a panic.

"Katara!" It's my dad, worried and urgent.

"I know!" With one final look at Zhao, I slam the lever up. The gondola lurches forward and slowly starts making it's way away from the prison again. I watch it enter the heavy scarlet-tinted steam, keeping my eyes anywhere but at the prince—the prince who has possibly betrayed me—until it disappears from sight.

"What are you doing?" cries Onri. The sounds from below tell me the battle is still raging on—but the guards are getting closer. "That's our only escape!"

"We've got to cross the cables. It's our only chance." I step up onto the control panel and onto the wide cables, keeping my arms out for balance. "The steam is so thick they won't be able to see us coming. We'll have the element of surprise."

_Don't look down_, I think. The cables are thick and heavy enough to support our weight. Warm air ruffles my hair across my face. We're so, so high.

The warden's muffled shouts cause me to whip around—my dad's arm lashes out to stop me from falling. There, on the far end of the bridge, the guards have reached the top. There's enough to overpower us. They'll be here within minutes.

My eyes lock with my dad. "Hold them off," I whisper.

"Katara—"

"Hold them off long enough for me to reach the gondola. Use the warden as leverage to stall for time. When I give the signal, bring it back."

I don't wait for him to respond. Instead I pull myself out of his reach and start moving. Maybe it's suicide—Toph would say it is—but I won't stay here at the mercy of the warden. I'd rather die free than spend another second of my life trapped in a cage—whether it's ice or iron bars, I'm done being a prisoner.

I try to remind myself of the past. How many times have Sokka and I run across roof tops at home, balanced across icy ledges?

Except those roofs aren't a hundred feet high over boiling water.

Shoving those negative thoughts from my mind, I lower myself down. I lose my balance. The scream lodges in my throat—my dad shouts my name—as I slip and start to fall. My hands snag the cables, my feet dangling over the boiling water. I swing up my legs, wrapping them around the cable so that I'm hanging below them.

"Katara, are you alright?" Dad's worried voice carries to me.

"I'm fine!" I call back. Breathing heavily, I slowly start to make my way forward again—right hand over left, followed by my footing, as I inch my way across.

It feels like it takes forever. My hands burn from the cables and with my head practically upside down, heat rushes to my head as I continue up the path. Left, right, left, right. _Don't think about behind you. Just keeping moving forward. _

I finally get close enough that I can hear the gondola. My fingers are raw, aching from the pain. There's no way I can inch any closer—my hands are about to give out. With a groan and all the energy I can muster, I swing myself up and pull myself onto the cables. I almost fall, my hands shaking wildly as I fight to stand up. The gondola is in sight, just about twenty feet away. I don't think, I don't look down—I just sprint across the cables the remaining distance, pulling out my dagger as I go.

That's when I see Zhao, his gold eyes wide from one of the windows as he stares at me, his fingers gripping the railing. My feet slip, the momentum too great for my balance, and I have to leap in the air. I throw with all my strength, aiming my dagger at Zhao, praying my lessons with Bowen pay off.

I miss his chest, my throw too low, but the metal lodges itself in his hand, pinning him to the gondola. He roars in pain, and I know my element of surprise is gone.

I land on top of the metal roof of the gondola, rolling to a stop. My head spins and I stagger to my feet, still off balance, breathing hard. I slip on my glove with shaky hands. I don't have more than a few seconds before a handful of guards pull themselves up to the roof to face me.

I attack without hesitation. It's sloppy at first and I barely dodge a blast of fire, but I manage to knock one guard in the chest, sending him over the edge. He staggers into one of his men and they both tumble down. I feel their screams in my bones as they descend into the boiling water below.

Another wave hurls my way and I roll across the roof, narrowly avoiding it. Someone grabs me from behind. I kick upward, knocking the guard across from me in the face. The hands wrapping around me heat up, as though the Firebender is going to melt me. I thrash and scream, but he's too strong. I jam my foot down on him. It doesn't do any damage but it loosens his grip. I'm able to free my gloved hand and I electrify him in the leg. The guard howls in agony and grabs a handful of my hair as I try to get away.

He jerks me forward and throws me to the ground. Then he's on top of me, Firebending forgotten, and his strong hands close around my throat. His grip is like iron.

I try to kick, to raise my gloved hand, but his knees pin my arms down and he's too heavy. He's going to strange me to death. I can still hear Zhao below, and it gives me a little pleasure knowing I've wounded him. Even as darkness blots the edges of my vision, I almost smile.

A blast of fire kisses my face as it knocks the guard off me. I look over in time to see the guard skidding across the roof, fumbling for something to grab to stop his momentum. But the fire was too powerful and he slides right off the gondola and out of sight.

I stagger to my feet, coughing and catching my breath.

Then I whirl around and my eyes connect with Zuko's, standing on the other side of the roof. His eyes are wild and vengeful and for a moment, I wonder if those emotions are reflected in my own as I stare at him. A sob thunders in my throat as he drops his arms. For a brief moment, I imagine myself running to him. Imagine his arms wrapping around me.

Then I remember everything.

"_Why?_" the word comes out cracked, broken.

Before he can say anything, the gondola comes to a lurching halt. The end I'm standing on drops and I fall flat on my stomach. I scream as I slide down, trying to find something to grip just like that guard had. Just as I start to tumble off, my fingers latch onto the edge of the roof, leaving me hanging.

"They're cutting the lines!" I hear someone shout.

Fighting to pull myself up, someone from inside grabs my legs and yanks me into the gondola. I only have a second before I see it's Zhao. And his face is livid.

Blood pours from his wounded hand as he grabs my throat and drags me across the gondola. "_You_," he snarls. I aim a punch at his chest, only my glove is gone, fallen off. "Open the doors!" he barks out.

The doors rip open and my head is thrust outside, dangled over the boiling water. My toes barely stay inside, touching the floor. Zhao keeps hold of me by the throat and I grip his hands with both of mine, fighting to breathe.

"You, I'll enjoy killing," he says. Then he throws me out.

My hands grab for the air, my feet flailing. I scream, feeling myself fall and fall through the hot steam.

As I fall, as I consider these are my final moments, something hard slams into me. Arms wrap around my waist, knocking the breath right out of me, as though I'm being tackled in midair. My arms reach out and in my panic and terror, I wrap myself around the body that's—

That's _flying_.

My face burns from the speed, from the hot steam whipping my hair across my face. Our bodies are practically melded into one, but over his shoulder I see fire bursting from his feet in a torrent of gold flame.

It happens so fast. No more than a few seconds. We crash into something hard, hard enough that I lose my hold on him and roll across the ground roughly. I feel my head snap against the cold metal.

"Stay there!" Zuko snarls at me as I try to stand up. I can't even push myself onto my hands and knees.

Tiny stars dance behind my eyes as I see a blur of movement—of Zuko—as he leaps into the air, fire exploding from his hands and feet. Distantly, I realize the ground is moving. I realize I have to get up, have to signal my dad. But only one thought forms in my mind as I fight the sudden exhaustion that's come over me: _I didn't know you could fly._

I flip onto my back, coughing and choking, tears of pain and terror—because I was so, so afraid—streaking down my face. I blink, and the red paint drips from the canvas. Only it's not a canvas, it's the sky. There's a rush in my ears, like the waves from an ocean, building and building, echoing the feeling of something in my core threatening to snap.

And then my chest explodes and color comes back into the world.

My body flies upward, as though I've nearly drowned and just found air. Power crackles and surges inside me and I find myself reaching, trying to find where it's pulsing inside me. I don't comprehend the colors, the sun that's beating down on me, the perfect blue sky.

All I know is power.

I get to my feet. I'm standing on top of the world—no, a gondola—and it's inching it's way toward another one across the cables. I feel I'm not alone before I actually see them. When I turn, the pulsing is even stronger as the figures stand on the roof with me.

I reach out a hand and take control of it—of them.

The men scream and fall to their knees. I tighten my fist and their backs arch backward. Somewhere in the back of my mind I register their agony, but I can't let go of the strong hold their blood calls to me, pulsing and throbbing under my control. They twist and turn, elbows bending and snapping, necks rolling. Breaking.

_You're in my way._

I take hold of their bodies and clamp down, gripping them. Then I shove my hands to the side—their bodies fly through the air, slamming into the oncoming gondola on the other side of the cables. A few hit the walls and fall below, some land on the roof. I don't care.

There's a flash to my right, and Zhao uses Firebending to propel himself onto the opposite gondola.

My eyes search and search, looking but not seeing, until I realize what I'm looking for. Who I don't see across the distance. The absence of those eyes is what slowly starts to thaw my cold heart.

A name echoes in my mind, over and over. I start blinking uncontrollably, as though salt water stains my sight. My bliss starts to fade, the throbbing starts to fade, until the power surge fades to nothing and I'm left gasping, clutching my chest.

I still don't see him.

The boy who betrayed me, then turned around and saved me.

I fall to my knees. My vision goes in and out of focus. As quickly as it came, I'm sucked dry. I don't have energy to fight. I don't have the energy to do anything.

So I just close my eyes and let the darkness take me.

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><p><strong>AN:** A lot of unanswered questions here. Don't worry, they'll be answered soon! :D As always, thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it!

**Review Responses:**

**WilhelminaCG: "****it felt a bit like a combination of the scene where Zuko locks Mai in the cell and the one where she helps them escape but with your own touch, was that what inspired the scene?"** - A little, yes. :D But originally when I was mapping out this chapter Zuko was going to stay behind willingly and Katara was going to allow it. But as I was writing, Katara took on a different approach. :P Sometimes the characters write themselves, as they say!

**Georgia: "****have you ever considered writing a zutara fic based on Pocahontas?"** - I have! But for right now, I think I'm going to stick with the Mulan inspired story, as well as Beauty and the Beast. But I might someday add Pocahontas or another Disney retelling in there. :P

**Guest" "****This is one of the best characterizations of Zuko I've ever read on this site."** - Wow, thank you so much! That is a huge compliment and I appreciate it very much.

**Ferrywings: "****You're also REALLY good at messing with my feels and,while I don't appreciate that, it makes me love the story more."** - Good to hear from you! And lol I'm glad the feels make you love it! :P

**Everlasting Harmony: "****Is Bowen on the cooler or did He stay back with Katara?"** - He was in the cooler with the others.

**storyoftheunknownfangirl: "Zuko. You poor gullible bastard. Your girlfriend plays you better than a fiddle and it's fantastic for her but agonizing for you."** - Bahaha this is true.

**Aaliyah92: "****She didn't betray him, she was only trying to keep him safe. But at the same time Zuko wants to keep her safe. What a conundrum!"** - Indeed! I feel like their relationship is a conundrum, lol.

**Mgirl: "****if Zuko could have called something out to Katara after she jumped ship at the boiling rock prison, what would it have been?"** - Oh this is an interesting question. Hm. I think he would have yelled out her name, maybe even added "Are you crazy?" or "What are you doing?" But I think beyond that, he would have been stunned into angry silence. lol

**Casandravus: "****I am wondering if we can get a bonus chapter with Zuko's reaction to this, though"** - Maaaaybe. I don't plan on doing any Zuko bonus scenes until after the series is over though. :P

**Character Q&A (the next one will be when we reach Chapter 15)**

**For Toph**

"Why did you allow Katara to stay behind while you and the others made your escape?" - I didn't _allow_ her to do anything! She did that on her own.

"what do you think of katara's actions?" - She's crazy and suicidal! But she's brave, I'll give her that. Stupid, but brave.

"What made you help Katara out when you metalbended Prince Zuko to the cooler?" - I respected her decision, even if it was a crazy one. And that idiot wouldn't have let us go without her.

"Does being on this mission, to save Katara's dad, make you miss your parents or regret letting them think you're dead?" - No! Yes. I don't know.


	12. Obey and Live

**A/N:** Whew, finally finished. Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Chapter 12 - Obey and Live<strong>

I wake up.

Not gradually, but all at once, my eyes snapping open with that feeling of alarm, like I'm supposed to be somewhere and I'm late. I try to sit up and soft hands gently keep me down.

"It's okay, Katara. You're safe now."

I turn to the voice and see those familiar blue eyes, wrinkled around the edges, as they swarm into focus. "Dad?" I say, suppressing a sob.

He smiles gently and bends down to press a kiss to my forehead. "You need to rest." When he pulls back, brushing hair away from my sweaty forehead, memories flood back to me.

I glance around, but it's dark and cold inside, only the glow of a candle offers any light. "Where are we?" I ask. "How did we get here?"

"Please rest now, Katara. I'll explain in the morning."

"No." I shove his hand away and sit up. Oddly I feel alert and awake—strong. "Tell me now."

Dad sighs and sits back on his chair. He's still wearing the prisoner's uniform, a bandage wrapped around his forearm and a cut looks to be healing slowly on his cheek. The bags under his eyes tell me he's slept very little. "We managed to cross the lake on the gondola," he says, sounding as tired as he looks. "There was an airship at the edge of the island. With the Warden as hostage and most of the men at the prison, we were able to board the ship. Following the map I found on you, we headed east."

"The Warden?" I ask.

"We let him go as we escaped."

I somehow manage to keep my voice light. "Dad, you don't know how to fly an airship."

"No," he admits, "but the manual was helpful. We figured it out."

Panic starts to swarm inside me. What if the Warden is in pursuit? Surely they have airships of their own. They could be following us now!

_The prison was rioting_, I assure myself. It will have taken time to restore order.

I force my fingers in my hair and start to braid the wavy, dirty strands, needing to do something with my hands. "How many are here?"

"Eight," says Dad. "Nine, including the prison guard."

My fingers pause. "Prison guard?"

"We needed a Firebender for the engine room." Dad pauses, then adds, "He didn't come willingly."

I nod stiffly and force the next words out. "And the prince?" Dad looks at me and in his eyes I can read his answer. I shake my head before he can say anything. "Never mind."

"Katara—"

"I said never mind."

Something in my voice silences him. I finish the clunky braid, and because I can't sit still, I dig into my arm, forcing Zuko out of my head, focusing on the pain that my nails bring. I think back to what my dad said. "You used the warden to get onto the gondola? The guards didn't try to stop you?"

Dad hesitates. "There wasn't very many to convince." His tone, the way his eyes briefly glance at me with uncertainty, makes my stomach drop as more memories return.

"How many?" I ask quietly. _How many did I kill?_

"I don't know." His voice matches my own. "More than a few."

More than a few.

I try to reason with myself that they were Guards, soldiers of the Capital, but it somehow doesn't lessen the guilt. I hold my hands out in front of me, palms up. Blood balls in little droplets underneath my nails. _Monster_, my hands seem to say.

"How?" I manage.

Dad stands up and pulls the curtain back from a small, circular window. White light spills onto me, so bright I shield my eyes. It takes me a second to put it all together. Another for me to shove the covers off and stumble my way across the room. Dad calls after me, but I thrust the door open, metal screeching against the floor. Then I'm sprinting aimless down the chilly corridors, up a set of stairs, and out onto the main platform of the airship.

I slam into the railing, gripping it tight. My head tilts up, wind whipping against my face. I gaze up at the moon—the beautiful, full moon, bright and clear and no longer crimson. There's a pull inside me, and something about the moment feels like I'm greeting an old friend.

_The eclipse—or whatever it was—is over._

My gaze drops. Swirling below is the sea, close enough that I can still see the shifting dark colors. I lift my hands up, summoning that familiar pull of the water I've longed for—and it answers.

I raise my arms higher, the waves obeying, until I form a tall tower of water. I grit my teeth and use all my strength, raising the water until it's as high as the airship. Then I throw it up and let it crash down. I sink to my knees, eyes closing and smiling as the salty water spills all over me and the airship, like falling rain.

A sense of wholeness builds in my chest, like some of the broken pieces of my soul are being pieced back together. Water continues to kiss my cheeks and when the last of it falls, I bow my head and begin to cry.

* * *

><p>The airship, we decide, belongs to Zhao. It's larger than any I've ever seen, with luxurious touches like a fully stocked galley and a small library. We fly it as high as we can, hoping it won't be recognized before we reach Thirteen. I don't think we'll meet company in the air—at least I hope not. Ursa once said most of the Fire Lord's airship fleets were either at the Capital or stationed in Provinces Ten and Eleven because of all the Airbenders. The speed of the airship is much faster than the balloon was, so we should reach Thirteen in a few hours.<p>

Over breakfast, Dad tells me what happened in Province Nine. I barely manage to finish swallowing a bite of warm biscuit when I say, "They just…showed up?"

Dad nods, filling his plate with more cooked eggs. "More Guards than I've ever seen."

"And the Fire Lord?" I still can't believe it. "He was really there?"

"Yes."

"Resist and die. Obey and live. They didn't tell us anything else," says Onri, his distant gaze showing the horrors he witnessed. His left eye is black and blue from the riot, burns along his arms. I wish he'd let me try to heal him. _Marks of a warrior_, he had said, refusing my help.

I take a deep breath as I think of our people, and suddenly only one face burns in my eyes. "And Yue?"

"I don't know. I didn't see her," says Dad. At my horrified expression, he adds, "She might have—"

I shake my head. Those that obeyed were sent to prison. Those that didn't were killed. She was imprisoned, or dead. There wasn't another option.

"It's all my fault." I press palms to my eyes, rubbing, as if I can rub the pain away.

Dad pries my hands away, forcing me to look at him. "It's not your fault, Katara."

It is though, isn't it?

_"So you're not going to kill me?"_

_ "When all of this is over, you will wish I did."_

I shove my plate away and stalk out of the galley.

* * *

><p>Joo Dee would appreciate our punctuality and tight schedule. I miss her, I realize with surprising sadness. All I can hope for now is her safety. I don't want anyone else to suffer because of me.<p>

We make excellent time. If I squint, I can see the snowcapped mountains of Thirteen in the distance. We already searched all the cabins and found nothing of use except a caged firehawk. I wrote a message, warning the Equalists of our arrival, adding a few details that only I would know. We can't leave the ship until the Equalists bring us uniforms and masks. I try not to think about it as I tie the message to the firehawk's leg, that it will likely be killed after it's delivery. Another casualty to add to the long, long list.

The door to the control room bursts open. Onri steps inside, followed by two men dragging in another that's held between them in firm grasps. The man in the middle jerks against the arms binding him. It takes me a second to wrap my head around the image: two water tribe men holding a Guard.

The Guard is helmetless, his neck and face covered in sweat and ash. When he tilts his head up, I see a flash of gold eyes—and blood dripping from one corner of his mouth, from a cut on his left temple. His raven hair is wild, falling past his shoulders, draping his face like curtains. Underneath the blood and soot, there's something familiar in his face, but he glances away before I can put my finger on it.

"What happened?" I ask, taking in his disheveled appearance.

"Caught this scum trying to sabotage the engines," says one of the men. "Taught him a lesson."

The Guard is tall, wide in the shoulders—strong. He must have been very weak from the engine room to be taken by two of our men. I wonder, idly, how overworked he has been, working alone to keep this airship in the air. Guilt pricks at me, but I ignore it.

"You had no authority to do that," I say to the man.

"Katara," Onri starts, but I hold up a hand to silence him.

"You had no authority," I repeat. "And how useful do you think he'll be now when he can barely stand?"

The Guard shifts, irritated by my remark, but remains silent. He refuses to look at me now.

The two men holding him exchange glances. One of them finally breaks the silence. "But if he had succeeded, we would all be dead."

"You should have reported to me immediately. You can't just…carry out your own set of punishments just because the opportunity presents itself."

"Are you defending a _Guard_?" the man asks incredulously.

"I'm defending no one," I say through gritted teeth.

"It sure sounds like it." The man's blue eyes are lit with fire, and I only now notice the long, thin scar that runs from his left eye to his neck. "You don't know what it was like, Katara. You don't know how we had to live."

Silence. Suddenly the control room feels too crowded, even though there's only the five of us and Nurock. I wish Dad was here. He'd see my side.

I stand a little straighter. "No, but I know what it's like to go to sleep, knowing I may be killed while I'm dreaming. I know what it's like to see children become monsters."

The man's eyes soften, ever so slightly.

"And if we continue down this path," I go on, "we are no better than the Capital."

After a moment, the man nods, along with the other holding the Guard. "I apologize, my lady."

"Take him to one of the cells and chain him. Once I heal his injuries, he can return to the engine room." They turn to leave, and just as the door nearly shuts, I add, "Also, bring him a hot meal and fresh water."

Onri looks on the verge of objecting. "My lady," he starts.

"We are not the Capital," I say to him firmly. "And he is a captive—not a slave."

When I find my dad, I tell him what happened. He offers to go with me to heal the Guard, along with another member of Nine. I fill a basin of water from one of the barrels stacked in the galley. There's only about five cells on the airship, and I find the Guard locked in the very first one. Onri stands guard out front and silently opens the iron-barred door when I approach.

"Wait out here," I tell him and my dad. Then I step inside and shut the door.

The cells are dingy, dark and cold, with only the dimly lit sconces along the wall outside the cell for light. The Guard is sitting on the ground, his arms raised up slightly and chained to the wall by the wrists; his wrists dangle, limp.

I hold the basin tighter in my hands. "Should you try anything foolish," I say to him, "you will suffer more than cuts and bruises."

The Guard chuckles. "Mercy doesn't suit you after all."

I drop the basin at the sound of his voice; water and pottery shatter at my feet. I _knew_ there was something familiar about him. "Elias?" I breathe, stunned.

But the door is yanked open and my dad and Onri rush inside. They're asking me questions and shooting the Guard—Elias—questioning looks. I blink away the confusion, the stunning revelation. I have to clear my throat.

"I'm fine," I assure them, finally. "Please bring me another basin."

Dad looks at me as though leaving me is the last thing he wants to do. His eyes drop to the broken pieces of the basin and the spattered water, then drift back up to me, questioning. I touch his arm.

"Trust me," I say. "I need a moment, and more water."

"Katara—"

"He's weak, injured, and chained to a wall," I point out, a little frustrated.

After a long moment, he says, "Onri will retrieve another basin. I'll wait outside the door, but it will remain open should you need to shout."

I nod at him, knowing it's the most he's willing to compromise. Once my dad and Onri are out of the corridor, I turn my attention back to Elias and cross my arms.

"They locked me up and kept me under sedation because of you," I say.

"Good."

So arrogant, so prideful, a once powerful Elite—reduced to shoddy armor and iron chains, a captive of the enemy. Standing above him now, I feel a sense of smugness at seeing him so low. And because I know the insult will sting, I say, "How does an Elite wind up a commonly Guard at the Boiling Rock?"

His head snaps up, eyes flashing. "Why should I tell you anything?"

"Oh, I don't know," I say with a shrug, "I only offered to heal you when I could have let my men tear you apart, bit by bit. You might just deserve it."

"Your men." Elias laughs, a cold sort of sound with little warmth. We both know if he wasn't so drained and weak, they'd stand no chance. "You're still a fool."

"You're still a fool's fool." At his scowl, I add, "And you're _still_ taking orders from me. How does that feel?"

"What do you want?" he grits out, his jaw tight.

"I want you to make sure we arrive in one piece." My eyes shift, landing on the plate of untouched food. "You are so proud. Has your pride always landed you in trouble?"

"Has it you?"

"Most of the time," I admit. "After I heal you, I do have one requirement before you go to the engine room."

"What's that?" he says tightly.

"Take a bath. You smell awful."

* * *

><p>As we fly over Thirteen, the control room is crowded with all of us packed inside. Standing near the controls, I point to Nurock where to land the ship, close to the Equalist's quarters. I expect Asami will want to tear this ship apart from the inside out to look at it's mechanics.<p>

My dad and the others stare out the windows in awe; even Elias, face clean and wrists bound in irons behind his back, raises a brow. I remember the first time I saw the towering buildings and paved streets, the cascading mountains lining the horizon. Despite the broken doors, shattered windows, and the sense of abandonment that hangs over the city, it is still magnificent to behold.

Nurock lands the ship completely on the ground, wedging us between buildings. It's a bit of a rough landing, but considering he's never flown an airship before, I'm impressed.

"Now what?" says Onri.

"Now, we wait."

It takes a little while for Ursa to decide we are not the Capital—we would have struck by now and there would be more ships—but the entrance gate finally starts to open.

"What are we going to do about him?" says Onri, nodding at Elias with a sneer.

I take a moment to consider it. He was an Elite before he was assigned to the Boiling Rock—an Elite assigned to my team during the Quarter Duels. I can only imagine what kind of information he carries. Ursa would want him. _If_ he'll talk.

_There are ways to make him,_ a harsh voice in the back of my mind says.

I shake my head and turn to Elias, tilting my head back to look up at him. His hair is now clean and tied back, two thin braids woven into the wolf tail near his ears. As an Elite, he always wore a hood. Now without it, I can see the strong jaw, the hard lines of his face. There was a warrior quality to his features, a soldier that has fought in a dozen battles.

He is no warrior though. He's an arrogant, prideful jerk.

But…he had held up his end. We made it here, unharmed.

"I'll give you a choice," I say to him finally. He lifts a brow in silent question. "You can walk out of here, free. Take your chances with the Red Death. The houses and city have been raided over the years, so you'll find no food, no supplies, and nothing of use."

Onri, once again, looks ready to protest.

"As you're now aware," I go on, "Thirteen is surrounded by water for hundreds of miles. Unless you're an exceptional swimmer, there's really no way off without modes of transportation. Which," I add, "only the Warden has access to. But you'll be free. You'll be infected with the Red Death and maybe you'll last a week, but you'll be free."

He doesn't have to know the Red Death can take much longer than a week. I've already exaggerated the symptoms to everyone on the ship, wanting them to fear it enough not to hesitate with our protocol of wearing uniforms and masks.

Elias peers over my shoulder and I follow his gaze. A dozen Equalists are marching toward us, carrying what looks like extra uniforms and weapons—a precaution. His eyes shift back to me. "Or?" he prompts.

I fight off a smile. _Or _means he doesn't like that option. Good. "Or you come with us," I say simply. "You'll be locked up if you don't cooperate. But if you do, you will make your keep. Your Elite status means nothing to us. We are all _equals_ here. You don't have to fight for our cause, but there is one condition."

He stares at me flatly.

"You can never leave," I say. "And if you try, if you attack _any_ of us, you'll never see the light of day again."

* * *

><p>As I had hoped for, Elias chooses to come with us. It saves a lot of hassle of keeping tabs on him in the city. Shai, whom I greet with a huge smile, is apprehensive when he realizes who Elias is, but agrees Ursa will want to speak with him. He also agrees to personally escort Elias inside, where he will remain in irons.<p>

I almost relax when I see the familiar masked faces, the tall gate that leads to my new home. But it only takes four words to send me running.

"Where are the others?" Shai had asked.

Toph. Bowen. Jeong Jeong and Piandao.

Zuko.

Panic had reared it's ugly head again, this time tenfold. "What do you mean? They should be back by now."

"No, you're the first. We haven't gotten word from anyone until you sent that hawk."

_Where are the others?_

I momentarily forget my dad; forget Elias and Onri and the people I saved. I leave them to Shai and the Equalists he brought with him. Instead I slip quickly out of my armor and into my uniform and mask, and sprint out of the airship and into headquarters. I run fast through the chilly corridors, up and down stairs, shout at the woman to go faster on the cable car, and through the main cavern. I have to take a short breath, staring around the stunned pale faces and tents that dot the cavern. That's when I see Jin, standing all alone in the middle of the room, knotting her fingers in her shirt anxiously. Waiting.

Waiting for us.

I take off my mask and rush over to her. "Jin!" I hug her before she can object. Her frail arms dangle awkwardly before embracing me back.

"You were gone," she says, her voice muffled in my hair. I pull back to hear her better. "You were gone for so long and I thought—you were _gone_."

"I'm back now," I assure her pleasantly. "I rescued my dad."

She grins back. "Where is he?"

"He's with Shai."

She looks over my shoulder, frowning. She cranes her neck, as if searching far behind me. "Where is he?" she says again.

"With Shai," I say slowly. "My Dad—"

"No." Her green eyes are wide with panic now. She pulls back, startled, and starts knotting her shirt again. "_Where is he_?"

"I don't…" I stare at her. It's only then that I realize she's not knotting her shirt at all, but playing with something in her hands. I pry her fingers away and notice it's a small, smooth rock. Realization dawns on me and I feel my heart crack. "I don't know, Jin," I tell her, trying to keep my voice steady. "But I'm going to find him and the others."

I leave her and dart off toward Command and don't stop until I'm there.

I shove open the doors. Ursa has her back to me, standing over the table filled with it's usual contents: maps, blueprints, weather charts, resource listings.

She turns around sharply upon me barging in. Maskless, her eyes are wide with surprise when they take me in. Then, to my surprise, her lips stretch into a smile and she embraces me in a hug. Too stunned to do anything but stand still, that's what I do. She pulls back, takes in my expression, and her face falls. She glances over my shoulder, as though expecting to see someone else, then looks back at me with a hesitant, wild fear.

"Where is my son?" It's not the voice of a leader of a province. It's the voice of a worried mother.

Maybe it's the events of the Boiling Rock. Maybe it's getting my bending back. Maybe it's Zuko. Maybe it's the constant pressure I feel. Maybe it's not knowing where my friends are—not knowing if they're dead or alive. Maybe it's all of it combined. But I burst out crying and tell her everything.

* * *

><p>A meeting will be called to discuss the new developments, but first, Ursa wants to talk to everyone individually that I brought back. She tells me she'll call for me when it's time. I just nod at her, my throat raw from recounting every painful detail.<p>

"He must have realized you were compromised," says Ursa, for what feels like the hundredth time, as I'm about to leave.

I nod. I've considered this over the many hours we were flying back. But now…"That doesn't explain what happened to the others," I force myself to say.

I don't want Zuko to be a traitor to us—to Thirteen, to his mother, to me. I know in his heart he's a good man. But I also know the way his eyes shine when he looks at his crown, the longing he feels when he thinks of his father and his throne. It's unfair, I realize, asking him to choose. A life as a traitor with your mother in a wasteland of a province plagued by the Red Death; or a life as the heir to a corrupted system with your father in a Capital covered in bloodshed. His mother lied to him. His father betrayed him.

They're both destroying him, tearing him into two, I think sadly. And they don't even realize it.

I'm filled with such overwhelming emotion that I just walk out of Command, not waiting to be dismissed. And just when I think things can't get worse, I visit Pakku, and realize they can.

"When were you going to tell me?" I ask quietly. "I thought you were just recovering."

He coughs, the sound a terrible, terrible rasp. He doesn't answer. Instead, he lectures me about my foolish rescue mission. I just let him do it, too upset by his current state to argue. He's too pale, his cheeks too sunken, his eyes too dull.

"I see you got your bending back," he adds, noticing as I play with the water in his cup. For some reason, it's harder to bend in here. Maybe it's because I'm underground. Maybe I'm just weak and the surge of power from the return of the moon is fading.

"So have you," I say. He coughs again and I close my eyes. "You need to be taken to quarantine."

"It is not contagious. And I have no interest in being probed like an experiment. We both know there's no cure."

My eyes snap open and I glare at him. "We don't know that. There _is_ a cure."

"I am quite comfortable here."

"You are selfish and stubborn and putting everyone at risk if you really do have the Red Death!" I shout, flinging my hand at him. I accidently knock the cup over, spilling his water everywhere. Sighing, I bend the water back into the cup—only, it hardly bends. Again, I have to strain to bend it.

_It is not contagious._

I stare at the water.

"Pakku," I say slowly, "have you tried to bend since we regained our power?"

He coughs again, as if that answers the question.

"What if…what if it's not in the air at all?"

"What are you babbling about now?" he says, sounding irritated.

"It's the water."

"What?"

"It's the water," I repeat, rising to my feet. I start to pace in the small space the tent offers. "I thought I was just weak—we were both weak when we arrived here. I struggled to bend the water since we've been here, but I didn't think it was…I thought it was just me. And then we lost our bending. On the way back from the prison, I bent a tower of water and now, I struggle with a tiny puddle. It's because the _water_ is contaminated, not the air."

"Everyone has drunk the water," says Pakku, sounding only slightly skeptical.

He's right, of course.

"Then it's not all contaminated. Just…" We're in a factory. A factory that produces steel. "Just a source that connects with this factory, where toxins might have spilled into it."

Pakku opens his mouth to speak, but I bend down and kiss his forehead, silencing him.

"Don't die on me, old man," I tell him. "I'm going to fix this."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Still quite a bit of unanswered questions. You'll just have to wait for those. ;) As always, thank you for your patience. Several people have asked about how long I anticipate this story to be, and right now I'm thinking 25ish. :D

Review Responses:

**Guest: "****Of course you leave us with another cliff hanger. I've learned to accept it by now :p"** - haha well, at least you're ready for it!

**Pointy Objects: "****I was not expecting her to be the one to incite the riot, but do what you have to, girl."** - That scene was inspired by how she tried to rally up the prisoners when Haru and his father were taken in canon. :D

**dedicated reader: "****what about changing fate?"** - This was actually updated recently! Check my profile page to see the latest updates. ;) It's really hard going from this to that, so updates take me a little bit just to get back into HP mode. lol

**Pipedream8989: "****It feels as if Katara is right there talking to you and that there is no confusion in communicating through a third person narrator. First person works well with this story."** - Thank you! I was so leery of writing first person because when I started TBG, I really hated first person in fanfics.

**18 years of Blue: "I****n TBG Azula said Zuko KNEW why she hated him so much. Is it because of Ursa? Did Azula know what Ursa had done to save Zuko and felt abandoned by her mother?"** - This will be answered in this story. ;)

**ILostTime: "****when can we expect the next update, with you being quite busy atm, as you stated on your tumblr..?"** - I'm shooting to update at least once a month, but hopefully twice!

**SkepticalBeliever: "****You write action sequences so well. I am kind of jealous. :)"** - Lol well thank you! I love watching action sequences, but writing them can be challenging. :P


	13. The Diary

**A/N:** I feel like this chapter should be called "when it rains, it pours" lol. I hope you enjoy it! This sucker is LONG...over 7,000 words!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 13 - The Diary<strong>

When the questioning is done—because Ursa wanted to know _everything_ that happened—Shai comes with me to investigate the water supply. Ursa is hopeful my hunch is right, since that means we'll be able to prevent the Red Death from spreading more. But she still insists we wear our masks to be safe, so as we creep along the edge of the factory, the abandoned city glows green beneath my lens. I pat the waterskin hanging around my waist, the one Jin made for me. It feels good to be able to wear it again.

It takes hours, but we circle the entire headquarters, looking for the toxin source. This factory is situated in the middle of the city, surrounded by buildings and streets. We find that the limited waste it produces pours into a deep, stone paved deposit in the earth—and no streams or rivers connect with it. I'm so tired of walking and searching, and I almost give up, when a thought occurs to me. I tell Shai and we rush back to the factory to find Asami.

She's in the middle of dinner when we find her, sitting alone at one of the tables in the back of the hall. The rationed amount of cabbage stew worries me as I notice just how little is in her bowl. Surprise flashes on her face when I stop in front of her and pull off my mask. It's the first I've seen her since I got back several hours ago, but I don't have time for warm greetings.

"Did your father have other factories besides this one?" I ask.

She blinks and takes a moment to adjust to my abruptness. "Yes," she says slowly, "why?"

"Can you show us on a map?"

Asami crosses her arms. "What's this about? Katara, when—"

"Later." I take a seat across from her and lower my voice so I don't startle the other members in the hall. "I think one of them dumped waste into a water source and that's what caused the Red Death." I then explain to her about my bending, how sometimes the water is harder to bend here. I also tell her I've seen the Warden, and Ursa can fill her in on everything else.

"Then why isn't everyone sick?" Asami finally asks.

"Because Resource doesn't always get water from the same source," says Shai. "Multiple rivers flow around Thirteen."

A memory resurfaces suddenly. Working with Bowen in Resource. Assigned to fill pails with water. "It's the green river," I say, rising to my feet. "I remember…the water was heavy, resistant. It explains why we couldn't find any game nearby, either. They left to search for something cleaner."

"The green river _does_ intersect with one of my father's old factories," says Asami carefully. She stands, too. "Come on. I'll get you a map."

* * *

><p>The green river runs west of the city, all the way to the outer wall. If we follow it toward the mountains, there's a perfect amount of space from the city to build a factory. It's a couple miles at most and when we finally find the river, it's just as murky as I remember. We're able to follow it to the factory Asami showed us on the map—she says it was one of her father's newer facilities used specifically for metal manufacturing for the mecha tanks.<p>

The factory, I notice, is not as large as the one we're currently occupying, but it's big enough to do some damage. We do some searching, stumbling over uneven ground and bits of earth and rock, before we find the problem. Gunk is caked around two waste pipes, showing just where it would have dripped into the river below.

Thirteen is the most advanced province I've ever seen, with tall buildings, abandoned shops, tea houses, markets and restaurants, that it would surprise me if people actually drank directly from a river. They wouldn't need to. Not here. But shopkeepers still had to get their water from somewhere. Maybe one—or many—used it as a source and assumed boiling the water would free it of any toxins. Maybe they just didn't know better.

However it came to be, the people got sick, and the air was blamed. I wonder who decided the air was the culprit.

I bend down to examine the shallow bit of water trickling over small pebbles and moist earth, my heart suddenly sinking. "I brought this water back to Thirteen," I say quietly. "Who knows how many people I infected?"

I think about Pakku and my chest tightens even more.

Shai places a hand on my shoulder. "You didn't know, Katara. No one did."

"I should have." I get to my feet, flexing my fingers. "I should have realized something was off."

"It's not your fault."

I just shake my head. "Do you think we can work together to clear the toxins? Use your bending with mine?"

"We can try."

It takes some time for me to figure out how to bend only the clean water and not all of it. It's like bending down and using only my leg muscles and not my back at all. I focus on ignoring the parts of the water that want to resist me—and Shai focuses on that resistance, bending it away. It doesn't take long for us to realize we're going to need more benders, so we head back for the night, satisfied we were able to clear some of it.

* * *

><p>It takes three and a half days to cleanse the river completely. Seeing Waterbenders and Earthbenders work together is more jarring than it should be. I'm so used to seeing elements clash against each other—not work together. It gives me hope for a better future.<p>

For good measure, we clear out the pipes and burn away all the toxins. This doesn't help us wipe out the Red Death completely, but at least we will hopefully prevent it from happening to anyone else. Ursa sends out small squads to examine the other rivers and streams, even ones we don't plan on using, just to be safe. She, too, feels responsible for spreading this false claim over the Red Death.

We agree to boil water from the bay from now on. Once Resource gathers the water, the barrels are brought to the kitchen for inspection. The Waterbenders now have a specific job: checking the water to make sure it's clear and scouting the rivers to eliminate any other toxins. So far, only the green river has shown to be polluted.

Ursa calls for an assembly meeting and everyone not infected is issued into a huge, empty cavern of the factory. Seeing us all together, I realize how small we are. Not even the smallest fraction of the Fire Lord's army. Asami had said there had to of been at least two or three hundred left behind all those years ago. Maybe more.

So many have died since then.

Ursa announces that we've found the source of the Red Death. It fuels so much hope that the gates open and those healthy and capable dance in the streets, mask less and free. Some are still weary, and opt to keep their masks on or stay indoors. After much coaxing and teasing, I manage to pull Jin outside and together, we join the others in dancing and laughing, spinning round and round until we nearly puke.

* * *

><p>Chatter surrounds me, voices rising and arguing. I rub my temples, hoping to clear my mind. It doesn't work and when I speak, my voice slices across the room.<p>

"_It's been five days_," I say.

Asami looks at me patiently. "Katara—"

"Five days," I repeat, "and still no sign of them—not even a word. These are _master_ benders we're talking about. They should have been back by now."

My fingers drum on the table to keep my hands busy. Even with the success of the green river, Command has grown tenser every day. No closer to finding more berries—no closer to finding my friends.

Sitting across from me, Asami purses her lips and flips her long hair over a shoulder. Shai sits on my left, Dad on my right, and Ursa at the head of the table. Without the others, the room feels unbearably empty. Not knowing what happened to my friends only allows my imagination to come up with horrible scenarios that are probably worse than the actual truth.

Shai clears his throat. Usually so calm and sure of himself, he looks hesitant. I shift in my seat, suddenly nervous what could possibly stall his tongue. "Do you think there's a possibility that," he starts quietly, "that the prince…"

"No." The word tears out of my throat before he can finish. "Absolutely not."

"We must consider all possibilities," says Shai, holding his hands up apologetically. "If he is the only one to return…we must consider what it means."

"You can't possibly believe this." I whip around to face Ursa, but she's staring at the table, her chin resting delicately in her palm. I open my mouth to say something else, but she waves a hand, dismissing us all.

Dad squeezes my shoulder as I start to stand, but then I plunk back down. "Katara—"

"Save me a seat at dinner," I say without looking at him. He pauses and I catch the Warden give a nod in his direction.

He sighs. I watch him go; half wishing I was following behind. Besides the thorough details he gave to Ursa about the siege of Nine, he's been mostly quiet during Command. Every once in a while I catch him looking at me in wonder, like he's staring at a stranger.

Ursa finally looks at me, a tight smile spreading across her lips. "Well?"

"You know he wouldn't do that."

She seems to think it over. "The truth, Katara," she says finally, "is that I don't know what to believe."

"How can you say that?" I breathe.

"Because I have been away so long that I don't know my own son."

I stare at her, watching the way she fights to keep the sadness from her face, the way it rings out in her voice. That tightness returns, but it's a sad, resigned sort of smile.

"Even if he had wanted to…kill them," I force myself to say. "How could he take on four master benders by himself, in the middle of a boiling lake? When I last saw him, he had been confined to the cooler."

She just shakes her head and shifts her attention to the papers on the table. Her uncertainness and doubt makes me start to question myself. Sokka would tell me to look at the facts and see the logic. It's no good really, because the problem is that everything contradicts itself. Zuko is the only one to return, and he _did_ attempt to leave the Boiling Rock with Zhao. But he had also saved my life. Was it possible that he betrayed Thirteen, but tried to save me? Does he realize that betraying Thirteen is the _same thing_ as betraying me?

I rub my eyes tiredly, fighting back a scream of frustration. My heart tells me Zuko wouldn't have betrayed them that way, but my mind can't ignore the past and the things he's done. If Ursa, his mother, claims to not know him, what makes me think I'm any different? Even if she's been away for years—she's his _mother_. I'm just…

I don't know what I am to him. I've never allowed myself to think about it—_couldn't_ think about it, not with death chasing us at every turn. I can't afford to start now, so I shove the thoughts about the future and feelings far, far away.

"There's something I wanted to speak with you about," says Ursa, cutting into my thoughts. She dips her brush into a bottle of ink and begins writing on a piece of parchment. It's blurry from here, but I think I catch the word _General_ at the top. "The prisoner is refusing to talk."

"I wasn't aware we took prisoners," I say slowly.

"He is not a member of Thirteen and is held against his will," says Ursa. "Call him what you like."

"What's your point?"

"My point is that what little he _did_ say was that he had a request."

I stare at her in question.

"He wants to speak with you."

* * *

><p>I make my way through the corridors to where they're keeping Elias. There are no cells in the factory, but the Equalists made due with an empty storage room. I expect to see him in bound or in chains, so when the two Equalists open the doors and I actually see what binds him, I gasp and take a step back.<p>

"Don't worry," says one of the Equalists, "this model doesn't work."

"Are you sure?" I say timidly.

"Positive. Shai sealed him in himself. He's not going anywhere."

Standing before me in the otherwise empty room is a massive mecha tank, with the top open to reveal Elias sitting in the seat, two safety belts made from metal strapping him in. His eyes are cast down, refusing to acknowledge me or anyone in the room.

"Give us a few minutes," I tell the guards. When they start to protest, I say, "He won't talk unless you leave. And as you said, he's not going anywhere."

After a brief hesitation, they follow my order and leave the two of us alone. I walk closer, examining the thick claw-like arms of the suit. "This is cozy," I say. "How often do they let you out?"

Elias makes a sound, a bitter sort of laugh. "What makes you think they do?"

I give him a pointed look and he holds my stare long enough that I blink.

"Three times a day," he says finally.

"Generous. At least you're not surrounded by a boiling lake and wearing a mask for the rest of your life."

"What do you want?" For once, the arrogance is gone. He just sounds tired. I notice the shadows under his eyes and wonder how much he's slept since we left the Boiling Rock.

"_You_ asked for _me_," I point out, crossing my arms. "I think I should be asking you that question."

"I don't want to admit it, but I'm impressed." He gestures toward the tank with his chin. "Made of platinum, the armor resistant to Earthbenders and Firebenders. A generator built in to produce lightning. Shame they don't work."

"They work just fine." A lie, but he doesn't need to know that.

"Not according to your…Equalists, you call yourselves?" He sneers at the name, his handsome face contorting into something ugly. "Your problems are not so quietly kept."

I cast a glare toward the door. Even though Elias is contained, he doesn't need to hear anything about our province or our weapons. Annoyed, I glance back him and rub my eyes. "What do you want, Elias? I have things to do."

"I want out of this."

A bark of a laugh escapes me. "Yeah, that's not going to happen."

"Even if I cooperate?"

"Do you plan on selling Capital secrets?"

"Do you think the Fire Lord would trust classified information to Elites?" I might have disagreed, but I can see the resentment on his face and hear it in his voice. "We are master benders, but we are expendable to him."

"So you really don't know anything useful," I say, deflated.

"No," he grinds out. "Our knowledge is limited to that of the Games only."

"But you were more than an Elite," I say. "You were a prison guard at the Boiling Rock. Why did the Fire Lord invade Nine?"

"I don't know."

"Maybe you're lying to me." I take a step closer to him. "Maybe I could make you tell me the truth." His lips twist into a cruel smile, as if baiting me to try, but he says nothing. Suddenly there's a knock on the door. "A few more minutes!" I call out over my shoulder.

Elias shifts slightly in his seat. "As I said, I am willing to cooperate."

"You've just said you have nothing to offer," I say flatly.

He jerks his chin at the tank again. "I can get these running."

I stare at him. "Why would you do that?"

"For my freedom," he says. "If I help you get them working, you agree to deliver me home."

"We're not taking you to the Capital."

"I didn't say the Capital."

No, he didn't. I reach out to touch the cold, hard metal of one of the claw arms. "How would you know how to fix these?" I ask quietly.

"I wasn't always an Elite," he admits reluctantly.

Knowledge of how to power an airship, an understanding of the mechanisms behind the mecha tank. Of course.

"You're from Three, aren't you?" I say, thinking of how they specialize in weapons and military. When his jaw tightens, I assume I'm right. "Why return there and not to the Capital?"

"Because my daughter has no one but me," he rushes out, so quickly I can see him regretting it instantly.

I stare at him in shock. "I didn't…I didn't know—"

"Of course you didn't." He looks at me with pure hatred, his eyes impossibly molten gold. "Because the _enemy_ doesn't have loved ones waiting at home, do they? Does it make it easier for you to betray your nation that way, to see us as no more alive than these damn tanks?"

I say nothing, unable to come up with anything to say, anything to refute. But now that he's said it…he's right. I never thought about the Guards at home as anything other than the people who take our freedom away. I never thought about what lies beneath the masks, if they had families or loved ones at home. Maybe it was my way of dehumanizing them so I could hate them more easily.

I think about Zuko—about June, and the General and Lu Ten. About others from the Capital that have shown me that a mask is just a mask, and not necessarily an enemy.

"I'm sorry," I say finally, meaning it. "But you were not exactly kind to me."

"Did you deserve such kindness?"

"Did you, when I ordered you to be given a hot meal?" I fire back. "Kindness is a _choice_."

He just shakes his head. His dark hair is still pulled back, and loose pieces fall around his face. "Do we have a deal or not?" he grits out without looking at me.

I almost say yes; say that I'll talk to Ursa. But I can hear Sokka's calculating voice of reason in my mind. "How can we trust you?" I cross my arms, shaking my head. "How do I know this daughter exists and what's to stop you from going straight to the Capital?"

"What do you think the Fire Lord would do to me, after I told him I aided the enemy's weapons advancement?"

"One could argue that you did what you had to in order to stay alive," I say hollowly, thinking of my own decisions and choices this past year.

He laughs that horrible, unpleasant laugh. "You don't know the Fire Lord very well. As I said, I am expendable."

Another knock on the door. "A minute!" I shout at it, irritated.

"Well?" Elias prompts, sounding impatient.

I shake my head. "She'll never let you leave while we're at the beginning stages of war. And neither would I—it's too risky." His eyes flash. "But if you hold up your end of the bargain…we have contacts outside of Thirteen. It might take a while, but perhaps we can transfer your daughter to here."

Elias closes his eyes briefly. "She's just a child. My sister cares for her but…she's unstable," he says, his voice taking on something desperate that pricks at my heart. But my heart has hardened, and I have learned what comes of trusting the wrong people.

"I'm sorry." I turn away before I can change my mind. "But that's the best I can do."

Ursa agrees to the terms, on the condition that Elias tells her everything about the Games about the prison. How this will help us, I don't know. She doesn't specify when she'll retrieve his daughter, and despite my ill feelings toward him, I fear it may never happen. Even worse, I fear he lied and plans on betraying us the first opportunity that arises.

For that reason, Ursa has him poisoned with one of Jin's specialties. Only we have the antidote, which he receives at the end of every evening. The poison is a slow killer, so he doesn't really feel the effects. But she makes it clear he won't last three days without the antidote. I think it's a barbaric method, but I still don't oppose her idea. I can't afford to, not with the safety of Thirteen to think about.

Elias no longer has to stay in the mecha suit, but sleeps with his wrists chained to the ground—courtesy of Shai—with two Equalists always watching him. The extra protection causes some of the members of Thirteen to grow suspicious, especially as he's always escorted by two people. But we tell them there's nothing to worry about; that he's a recovering Red Death victim who's bending is unstable. If anyone looked too closely, he's too fit and healthy to pass as being sick. Thankfully the dark clothing of the Equalist uniform hides his physique.

Asami is understandingly distrusting, but can't deny the relief of potentially cracking the mecha tanks. Elias is blindfolded through the corridors and always taken different routes to the weapons room so that in the case of an escape, he won't know his way around.

One day I find the two of them arguing over a table covered in mechanical parts. Seeing the proud, arrogant Elite covered in grease gives me unexpected delight—and even more when Asami throws a dirty towel in his face before storming off. Hands always chained and two Equalists overseeing, he can do nothing but scowl and shout at her retreating back.

I think part of her enjoys his company though, if only because of the distraction of having someone to bark orders at. The other day she came to me, worried about the others who are still missing, asking if I had any idea where they might have gone. When I mention that Bowen was injured, her worry shows even more clearly, and that's when I realize she cares for him more than she lets on.

"Are you two...I mean...are you...?" I struggle to put the words together, but she understands my meaning and quickly shakes her head.

"No!" She tucks her thick hair behind her ears. "We had dinner together once or twice. Three times, maybe. It was nice, but we're not...it was nice."

Then she hurries off, saying she needed to delivery some papers to Maintenance.

Days pass in uncomfortable dread. Each day that my friends don't return, the more tempted I become to leave and search for them. I tell myself that if two weeks pass and still no word, I'll take a balloon and leave. So far, it's been about a week and a half.

The search for Bacui berries continue unsuccessfully until I manage to drag Jin outside. She still wears her mask and grips my hand tightly as we follow the Director through the corridors and into the streets of Thirteen. As always with Resource, we pair up and go about our task. The Director and I are on better terms now, and when I tell him I'm searching for the berries, he just grunts in response without arguing.

Jin carries her favored tattered brown book clutched to her chest, occasionally stopping to add a sketch or jot down notes with one of Asami's portable ink pens. I let her take the lead, as she has a natural knack for finding things I wouldn't have even noticed.

"How did you even see that?" I ask her, bending down to examine a pair of tracks in the dirt, mostly obscured by debris.

"Don't you feel it?" she asks me.

"Feel what?"

"The energies." She raises her hands and spins in a circle.

I just shake my head. "Come on. We need—"

Jin grabs my chin and forces me to look in a specific direction. "Can you feel it now?"

No, but…when I squint…I _see_ it. Near the low cliffs and weaved into vines are small, reddish brown berries. _Bacui berries_.

"Jin, you found them!" I sprint toward the bushes. They seem to be growing like moss against the rocks. "Bring me the baskets."

We fill two baskets with as many berries as we can and mark down the location in Jin's book. Then we practically sprint through the greenery of the mountains and head back to the factory. Even though I've grown used to the calm, quiet streets, a sense of loneliness always washes over me when I think about what this province must have been like all those years ago.

Jin pauses outside what looks like a run-down tea house. The chipped, painted sign reads _The Green Dragon_. Even though the door is missing, the dirty windows aren't broken or cracked.

"It's—it was a tea house," I say to Jin. "Do you like tea?"

"Father liked three lumps of sugar," she says. "We drank tea for the sunrise."

I glance at her, and after a brief hesitation, I grab her wrist and pull her inside. "Come on."

"What—what are you doing?" she asks in protest. But once I drag her over the threshold, she goes still to look around.

The green walls are faded and several large tables are overturned. The front counter remains untouched though, and mismatching chairs dot the room. I go to the cleanest table and set down my basket of berries. Then I wipe a hand across the wooden surface before setting up two chairs. Jin is still looking around in what I assume to be wonder when I pat one of the chairs and say, "Have a seat. We're going to have tea."

This gets her to look at me, but I'm already moving to the kitchen. Most of the dishes and shelves are empty, but I manage to find two teacups and saucers, along with a large pot painted with whorls of blue flowers. I bring back the supplies and set the table. Jin is already sitting in one of the chairs.

"Now we have tea," I say, taking the other chair.

Jin looks at the pot, then back at me. She looks again.

"We're going to pretend," I tell her.

"Pretend," she says slowly.

I nod. "When I was a little girl, my brother and I had feasts fit for the Fire Lord made entirely out of snow."

Jin lifts the ivory teacup in front of her face to examine it.

"You can't very well drink tea with your mask on," I tell her. "Go on. It's safe now."

"I was sick before." Her voice comes out in a whisper.

"I know," I say, just as quiet. "But I promise you it's gone, Jin. The Red Death was in the water—not the air. It's why I couldn't bend the water very well before and I can now. We cleared it out."

It takes a little more coaxing, but finally Jin sets down the cup and after a long pause, removes her mask. Her hair is sticking in all sorts of directions when she finally sets it down, smiling nervously.

"Good." I grin back at her. "Now, what kind of tea will we have?"

She bites her lip, looking over the table, before peering back at me. "Lychee is my favorite."

"Then lychee it is." I grab the pot and begin to pour when Jin takes it from me.

"No," she says. "You must add the milk first." Then she rushes off to the kitchen and brings back an array of mismatching supplies: two more pots, plates, spoons and chopsticks.

Jin pours in the "milk" and asks me how much sugar I want. I tell her two lumps, and she dips a spoon into a cup and adds my "sugar." She takes one of the tea pots and adds that next.

"Is it ready?" I ask. When she nods, I take a pretend sip. "Mmmm, this is tasty."

"Sweet and creamy," says Jin, pressing a cup to her lips.

I look at the empty plates on the table. "What's to eat?"

"Mango puffs," says Jin excitedly. "And ginger cookies."

"What about cake?"

"Sugar plum cake!"

We laugh and get carried away in our game. In the corner, I tell her, my dad is sitting with my brother sharing a moon cake and drinking a strong blend of Ginseng tea. Asami and Shai sit at another table, playing a game of cards. June and my team sit at a large table, laughing and stuffing their faces with sugared pies and cream puffs. Jin tells me her dad and sister sit at a table playing Pai Sho. We name other people we know, filling up the room. Zuko's name slips out of me unwillingly and I falter before I can finish.

Jin looks around the empty room before glancing back at me. "Maybe he's hiding."

I can't help but smile at her, even if it feels like a sad gesture.

"Do you think—" Jin struggles to find the right words, her fingers digging into a chipped teacup. "Do you think Bowen's hiding, too?"

It's the first time I can ever remember hearing her say his name. I watch her green eyes grow with worry. I wonder if, once she accepted his presence, she grew so used to it that once it left, she feels that absence. It's cold, empty, and nearly unbearable, once you lose a constant in your life. I'd know. I've lost more than one.

I reach across the table to stop her hand from shaking. "I hope so, Jin."

We finish our game and put our pots and cups and utensils back in the kitchen. I promise her that someday we will turn this place into a real tea house and we won't have to pretend anymore.

As soon as we enter headquarters, Jin and I rush to Command to deliver the baskets. Jin isn't allowed inside, but one of the guards stationed outside the door offers to escort her back to the garden. I feel a little pang of guilt seeing her go. She may not be a member of the White Lotus, but without her, we wouldn't have found more berries.

Inside, I show Ursa where they are on a map. She's so grateful for our finding that she actually hugs me. Tomorrow, she says, she will send out double the amount in Resource. I immediately demand that Pakku gets the first serving, and thankfully she agrees. I leave Command and take him a decent amount. Once I get to his tent, I have to shake him to get his attention. He grunts in response, looking paler than I last saw him. He's weak and tired, so much that I practically shove the berries down his throat.

Pakku splatters and chokes, bolting upright, but I ease him back down and give him some water—clean water. "Just rest now, old man," I say to him.

He mumbles something—I think I catch _foolish girl_—before drifting back to sleep. I sit with him long enough that my dad eventually finds me here. He drags in a small cargo box and sits next to me. I don't realize I've been straightening and ironing down Pakku's sheets until my dad puts a hand on my own.

"He wouldn't want them wrinkled," I say defensively.

"He's going to be alright, Katara. Why don't you get some rest?"

I ignore his request. "I've just…" For some reason, my throat feels achy and tight. "I've never seen him like this. He's usually yelling at me about something or another."

Dad laughs and puts an arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer to him. "He may be a little grumpy sometimes, but he is a good man. He helped keep you alive in the Games."

I stare at my mentor. The long white hair, sharp clear eyes resting beneath his wrinkled lids, the pointed beard. He actually looks peaceful in sleep, and amusingly strange without the usual scowl plastered on his face.

"He is." I peer up at my dad and smile. "I'm glad you're here."

"There's nowhere else I'd rather be," he says, squeezing me even tighter.

I reach up and touch my pendant. My neck had felt so bear without it while I was away. I think about how lucky I am to have a dad like him. He tries to hide it from me, but he still struggles to sleep. I watch him toss and turn many nights, and can only imagine the life—however brief—he had in prison. It took a toll on him whether he wants to admit it or not. I can see it in his eyes and I know that the Games left a similar reflection in mine.

I think about how damaged we are, but how blessed we are to have each other. And for the first time, I think about the Fire Lord all those years ago. He was a tribute once, too. He was a _victor_. What kind of horrors did he see and how much was his own making? Did the Games affect his ability for compassion? Or is that what happens when you rule the world? Will that happen to Zuko?

I may never understand the relationship Zuko has with the Fire Lord. Maybe it would be better for him if Ozai was gone, like Asami's father or Jin's.

Jin's…what _did_ the Fire Lord want with him?

* * *

><p>After we go back to our tent for the night, I wait until my dad falls asleep to sneak out. Not that it's really sneaking since we still have nightly patrols. But most of the members are asleep, so I creep quietly through the corridors until I reach the garden. Pushing the doors open, I'm hit with the usual fresh and sweet fragrance.<p>

I start my search—for anything useful of Professor Zei's that she might have kept. I start with the tables, looking over the sketches and notes scattered everywhere. They're mostly of plants and ingredients. In a wooden cabinet in the back of the room are bottles and vials of liquids, most of which I know are poison. Some are even labeled. I don't think they'd keep anything too lethal out in the open though, but I still wonder which one is given to Elias each morning.

I look through the bookshelf, finding books and scrolls that most likely did belong to Professor Zei: _The Four Elements, City of Walls and Secrets, The Tree of Time, Master Yu's Airbending Academy_, _Geography of the Fire Nation._

I go check the storage room and nearly jump in surprise. There, sleeping on a bed of misshapen blankets is Jin, snoring lightly. I nearly slap myself for not checking to make sure I was alone. I just assumed she was in her tent due to the late hour. Wondering how she hadn't woken, I then notice an empty vial by her head. Frowning, I think about Riya once telling me Jin still has nightmares. This must be a draft to help her sleep.

I'm about to leave when I notice the tattered book under her arm. Slowly, quietly, I bend down and slide it to me. Then I tiptoe from the room, closing the door as silently as I can.

I flip open the book to find that it's not a book at all, but a diary.

The first entry, labeled Entry 1 and dated many years ago, is simple, in a writing that doesn't belong to Jin.

_Dear Diary,_

_ I pleaded with them. I begged them to spare us. He asked what I had to offer. I had to offer my services. You must understand. I did this for you. I am sorry._

Slightly bewildered, I start flipping through the pages and find most of Jin's work toward the back of the diary. Most of it though is diary entries, many of which written under hand-drawn sketches: a tall peaked mountain. Bright flowers taller than man. A twisted and massive tree. Creatures of various shapes and sizes. There's three pages dedicated to Agni, and other spirits I've never heard of. But what makes me pause is the entry _The Spirit Oasis of Tui and La._

_The Spirit Oasis is the center of all spiritual energy of our land,_ it reads._ Near the beginning of time, the Moon and Ocean Spirits crossed over from the Spirit World to the mortal world. They created the Spirit Oasis in the south and assumed the form of two koi fish swimming in the pond, circling each other in a continual dance of push and pull. Exact location unknown._

Below the entry is a sketch of Tui and La, two koi fish, circling one another like in the description—like the paintings I've seen at home. Frowning, I flip more pages. There is more information about spirits, about their abilities, strengths, and physical features. Two more pages feature an enormous owl, with something about a dessert and knowledge. Pages and pages are filled with geography; some areas are marked, some have small notes written in the margins.

_The essence of spirit life is endless_, the last entry reads. _He believes endlessness may be stolen, but I fear it does not work that way. By disrupting the delicate balance of light and darkness, the world as we know it may no longer exist. _The ink is smeared here, like a cup of water spilt across the words. I can barely make out the final lines. _If you are reading this, know that I failed you. I love you, my dear. For you are my greatest discovery._

I stare at the pages, reading the lines again and again, until Sokka's voice seems to put the logic together in my mind.

_The essence of spirit life is endless. He believes endlessness may be stolen._

Tui and La, the world's first Waterbenders, are ancient—endless. They are _immortal_. And the Fire Lord thinks…

I drop the diary.

He thinks he can steal their immortality.

Shaking, I bend down and flip open the diary again, searching and searching, until I find the entry on the Spirit Oasis again. Words jump out at me.

Waterbenders. Moon. Tui. Balance.

It wasn't a lunar eclipse that caused me to lose my bending. It was a disruption of the spirits—of Tui, the Moon Spirit. The Fire Lord did something. _He believes endlessness may be stolen. _Maybe he thought if he took the life of Tui, he would gain the endlessness of the spirit. So he killed Tui, our moon, and our world fell out of balance—Waterbenders lost the ability to bend without the moon.

But how was it restored?

I'll have to figure that out later. Right now I needed to focus on a potentially very, very terrible truth: The Fire Lord might be seeking immortality and he had Professor Zei research spirits because of it.

But Zei said he had failed.

_But what if he finally succeeded_, a terrible voice says to me. And y_ou helped him._

And, with horrible, agonizing understanding, I realize I did. I look back at the entry. _They created the Spirit Oasis in the south…_

The south. The Spirit Oasis isn't located in the south. It's in the _north, _a piece of information passed down through our people—and now, I'm wondering if only a select number actually know. And even so, the north is huge. Province Nine is only a fraction of the vast tundra of the north. But I had narrowed down that search. The tears of Tui and La that brought Zuko back to this world had come from me, from Province Nine.

That's why the Fire Lord invaded my home. He was searching for the Spirit Oasis—because even though I didn't know they actually existed there, he knew that's where he could find a spirit.

Maybe he had been searching for a long time. Maybe that's why the South Pole is uninhabited. Because the Fire Lord believed the Spirit Oasis was located somewhere in the south. Or maybe he's searched the north, too, but never knew it was buried deep within Nine.

Either way, he knows now. Because of me.

And because of what I said…Yue. I told him I stole the necklace from the chief's daughter.

Feeling as though I may throw up, I tuck the diary under my arm and sprint out of the garden, praying that I'm wrong, praying that killing a spirit won't grant him immortality, that Zei was correct.

I don't get very far when I hear the alarm that only means one thing.

I change direction, running past panicked members of Nine waking to the blaring sound of the alarm bells. I whip the flap of my tent open when I reach it, but Dad isn't here. I put on my mask quickly and grab my essentials: the bison whistle, my waterskin. A pang of sadness briefly interrupts my panic when I remember the last time I saw Zuko's dagger as I threw it at Zhao. I lean down and there, buried in a thin blanket under my bed, is Zuko's crown. I tried to give it back to him after he woke here, but he refused to wear it, saying he was no longer a prince. I can't bear to risk it lost, even as shaky as things are between us, so I slip it into my knapsack next to Zei's diary.

Then I'm running. Shai and some other high ranking Equalists are barking orders. Some members are told to head to the bunkers. Some are told to get ready for a fight. I slip off my mask and my eyes connect with Shai's.

"What is it?" I ask over the chaos.

His eyes tell me the answer before he says it—what I already suspected but denied. "The Capital."

"It's not possible," I whisper.

"Get to Command!" he shouts at me. "Go!"

"My dad?"

"He'll be in Command."

"Get Pakku out of here!" I yell, already on the move. "Promise me."

He nods once; then sends out more orders.

I don't go straight to Command, even though I'm eager to tell Ursa my new theory about the Fire Lord. Instead I find the door that leads to the observation deck, the highest point of the facility. I climb two steps up a time, then up a tall, metal ladder. At the top, I twist open the hatch and hoist myself up. The deck is open and plain, with a barred railing around the perimeter. Five Equalists are standing guard, each with a handheld telescope.

Without saying a word, I march up to one of them and grab the scope to see for myself. I press the cool scope to my eye and almost drop it when I see a _fleet_ of Capital ships sailing this way. They'll be here within the hour. But that's not what stops my breath.

Standing near the helm of the colossal ship leading the fleet is Lu Ten. And, standing right by his side and dressed in military armor, is Zuko.

Glass and metal shatter at my feet.

I drop the scope after all.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **I'm sorry...you know I love cliffhangers. :P As always, thank you for reading! So the idea of Ozai wanting immortality came to me early, early on. (Before Book 2 of LoK was named Spirits, even! For which I was grateful for more spirit info.) I like my villains to want something. In Ozai's case, with canon, it's power. But Ozai has that in this story. So I asked myself...what does a guy who has everything and all the power in the world want? The answer came to me: he wants to keep it forever. :P So yes, there will be spirit involvement in this story.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

Review responses:

**InItToWinIt: "I realized you started this particular story a year and a half ago. And the other two much earlier. That's insane. Great job, and thank you for sticking with it!"** - Gah it's crazy when I think about it. Amazing how time flies! And thank you for sticking around to read it!

**Aaliyah92: "****Totally forgot who Elias was as well."** - I was kind of hoping Elias could come back into the story since he was such an ass, even with his brief appearance in The Rise of One. :P But I didn't really plan on it until I was mapping out the scene. He's going to play a little larger role than I originally envisioned, which is fun. :D

**Pipedream8989: "****It was a great idea to incorporate the water as its cause-I can't believe I didn't get that!"** - Ironically, the inspiration there was from the movie Erin Brockovich lol and that episode where the gang figures out the water is contaminated in that Fire Nation village. :P

**SaltTahneeBran: "****Okay now I'm going to lose sleep wondering where all my babies are"** - You'll find out next chapter!


	14. Captured

**A/N:** Well this chapter was supposed to end a little ah...more pleasantly lol but it was getting SO LONG that I had to cut it off somewhere. So the good news is that it means the next update will probably be faster. :D Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Chapter 14 - Captured<strong>

For a brief moment, relief washes over me so intensely that my knees start to shake. Zuko is here and he's brought an army of reinforcements. We might actually have a chance against the Capital!

But then I hear the man beside me hiss in outrage. I raise another scope to my eye and see another face step into view on that ship, a face that is anything but good news.

Zhao.

"Traitor," my comrade sneers. "Filthy traitor."

"He wouldn't—wouldn't have—" I choke on the words, unable to formulate a coherent sentence.

"He was born a prince of the _Capital_." The man rips the scope from my numb hands. "You should have expected nothing less."

A calmness settles over me, numbing all senses. My mind just…I have nothing. I can't force myself into action, even when a distant part of my brain is screaming for me to move—to warn the others, to blast the ships out of the water…to do _something_. But I just stand here, staring and staring, watching what feels like an endless number of Capital ships sail into our harbor.

Something snaps in my mind, a voice that oddly sounds like Sokka, and I start moving. I climb back down and head straight for Command. I run fast, leaping down stairs and sliding past panicked members of Nine. When I shove open the doors, my dad isn't here. Ursa is waiting with Asami—and, to my surprise, a chained-up Elias. My eyes meet the Warden's and I see the same dread that must mirror my own.

"I saw him," I blurt out. "I saw Zuko. He's with Lu Ten and Zhao. Their heading this way with a fleet of Capital ships."

Ursa nods once; her eyes barely shift in surprise at the mention of her son's name. She knew the Capital was here—she didn't know about Zuko until now. "How long until they reach land?"

"I don't know, an hour," I guess.

Asami lowers the hand covering her mouth, her green eyes filled with worry. She faces Ursa and says, "Do you think this is an attack, or is he bringing reinforcements?"

"If Zhao is here, it is an attack," says Ursa. She closes her eyes, her face shifting into pain. But when she opens them, the pain is gone, replaced only with the cold calculation of a leader. "The sick must be moved to the secure bunker. We'll station Waterbenders along the shoreline. If we can prolong them coming to shore, we'll have time to ready the biplanes and war balloons."

"How many biplanes are working?"

"I—I don't know. We still have much to do." Asami's eyes dart to Elias. He's been too quiet and still for my liking, and I turn my attention to him.

"Why are you even here?" I snap. Before he can say anything, I add, "If you are part of this…"

"He couldn't have been," says Asami, without looking at me. Her head is bowed, reading over charts on the table. "He's been under careful watch the entire time—most of the time by me."

Elias lifts a brow, as if daring me to argue. But I just shake my head. I know he can't have revealed our location. He doesn't even _know_ it. I just want to blame anyone but who I know is responsible and he's an easy target.

Asami finally looks up, her eyes widening with concern. "We won't have enough," she says quietly. "There's not enough time to ready the number of balloons and biplanes for everyone to escape."

Silence falls. Then Ursa says, her voice blank, "The sick must stay in the bunkers."

"You're just going to leave them here?" I ask, horrified.

"There are enough resources down there to last a year. Maybe two, if they're properly rationed. If enough of us escape, we will be able to return in due time."

"Unless the Capital decides to blow this province to smithereens," I say, glaring at her.

The Warden shakes her head. "He will want the resources—our weapons."

Weapons. He may not need them. _He'll_ be the weapon.

I can feel the weight of the diary at my side, but with Elias here, I keep my burning suspicions to myself.

Ursa turns to Asami and says, "Ozai is not a man of technological advancement, preferring the traditional ways, but he will not turn away resources that will aid his power. Anything we cannot take must be destroyed."

Asami looks as though Ursa has asked her to rip off her arm and eat it. This is her life's work, I realize. Everything that has been built in this province is a product of Asami and her father. Her creations and inventions—that is her bending, the way water is for me.

More hurt than she'd ever admit, the young woman simply straightens and nods. "I will do all that I can," she says. "I've prepared for this to happen, but I don't know if there's enough time to destroy everything."

"I know." Ursa gives her a brief, appreciative smile. "Focus on the blueprints—anything that shows how they work. The Fire Lord may steal our weapons, but we can assure he won't know how to make more."

Asami nods again and faces Elias. Her usual confidence waivers as she clears her throat and straightens just a bit. "If you help us," she starts, "I will let you take any method of transportation you seek to get to your daughter. Immediately, once we are safe."

Elias stares at her, cold and assessing. "Why do you want my help?"

"Because I need a mechanic and wing-man who knows what to do."

Realizing what she's implying, I step forward. "Asami—"

"Please," she says desperately to Elias. She reaches out and grips his chained wrist. His eyes travel slowly down to her hand and back to her eyes. "You can try to fight your way to them and take your chances with Zhao. Maybe he'll believe you—maybe he'll call you a traitor. You know him better than any of us, to know how his mind works." Elias makes a sound that says exactly what he thinks of the Head Elite. "Or you can help me save a fraction of innocent people that were left to die years ago. Some of them were fathers, too."

Elias's jaw tightens and I can see him mentally battling himself. "Why not just give me another dose of poison and force me?" he grinds out.

"Because I don't want to be that type of person." Guilt gnaws at me as I think of the girl I was in the Games, and how she would have probably chosen that route first. "I give you my word, Elias. You help us, and you can go free."

He stares at her, long and hard. Then he glances at Ursa, who gives a stiff nod in confirmation. "Very well," he says finally.

Relieved, Asami turns back to the Warden. "The balloons will need a Firebender to pilot. The biplanes hold two passengers, but there's only a select number who can pilot them."

Ursa quickly goes over the plan. Onri is to lead the Waterbenders to the shore, where they'll attempt to hold off the ships from making port. They'll form a huge wall of ice when the Capital is almost closing in. The wall won't last forever, but will hopefully buy them enough time to get to the hangar. The Director and a few others will finish transferring the sick to the hidden bunkers. Asami and Elias will lead a small group to ready the biplanes, war balloons, and mecha tanks. The tanks will be used to guard the entrance to the factory. Those unaffected by the Red Death will escape on the biplanes and balloons, and head to the abandoned Northern Air Temple. Ursa will lead them as Amun Ra, with Asami and Elias by her side. Since 13 is at the base of a mountain range, Zhao will lose sight of us as we fly over the mountains.

And me…I'm to go straight to the hangar with the others that will be escaping. I'm told to _run. _The thought makes me sick with guilt and rage.

We're ordered out of Command with our tasks, but I hesitate at the door and turn around slowly. "You're really going to leave all those people behind?" I say quietly.

Ursa crosses her arms and asses me. "They will not be without resources."

"They will be without a cure, and unable to obtain more berries."

"Would you prefer we leave them where they are, and let Admiral Zhao determine their fate? If he is here, it is because he knows the Red Death is neither airborne nor contagious."

"I just…" My eyes fill with tears and I clamp them shut tightly. Leaving the dying should sound logical, and perhaps it is, but it makes me feel…cold. Like a monster.

_You left Ty Lee to die in the Games, _a voice seems to mock.

"This is what being a leader is, Katara. It is not about wearing fancy gowns and attending balls, or eating the richest of foods. It is seeing the greater picture and making hard decisions. It is knowing that some may die so many can live. Leading is a burden, but we must carry those burdens so others do not have to."

I open my eyes and stare at her. Her blazed gold eyes, the hardness to her jaw, the set of her shoulders. I see what she has learned, and what she has passed on. I see Zuko's determination, Azula's calculation, Ozai's calmness—I _do_ see a leader. I've seen the way her words inspire others, how she's built this province from nothing but sickness and death. And I've seen the shadows that haunt her eyes from the choices she's had to make. Shadows that will also forever be in mine.

Because this may be the last time I see her, I reach into my knapsack and pull out the diary. Then I walk across the room and hand it to her. "Read this when you reach the temple, and then burn it."

I leave Command, running quickly through the corridors as I search for Onri. I check the garden, not because I think he's there, but because I want to find Jin. Only she's not there, and I can only hope Shai or Riya has sent someone after her. I finally find Onri in one of the corridors. But I don't tell him he's to lead the Waterbenders like we planned. I tell him I am.

"Get my dad out of here," I say, gripping his shoulders. "The Warden said he was sent to the hangar. Find him, and make sure he's on one of those balloons."

"He won't leave without you," says Onri, shaking his head.

"He will, because you will do everything in your power to ensure he does." Onri opens his mouth to protest, but I cut him off, "Do this for me, Onri. I saved your life once—save his for mine. Now go."

He looks like he wants to argue further, but I shove in one direction and take off in another. There are only a handful of us Waterbenders—six or seven at most. It will take everything we have to stall the Capital. They've been rounded up and wait in the main cavern, which is eerily empty and quiet, our tents and makeshift homes now abandoned.

"We're going to hold off the Capital for as long as we can," I say to them, getting straight to the point. "Down by the shore, so they struggle to make port."

"Then what?" one of them asks, an older woman of forty with bright clear eyes. "We're to be captured?"

"No," I say, shaking my head, "at least I hope not. We're going to—"

"They'll leave us!" another man says. "I heard one of them saying there aren't enough balloons or planes for all of us!"

My people break out into angry chatter before I climb upon one of the tables. "We don't have time for this!" I shout at them. "If not for the Equalists, you would all still be at the Boiling Rock! This is _their_ home, where they were _left to die _all those years ago and they managed to survive. They deserve to be on the balloons and planes before any of us. We have the chance to help them the way they did for us."

Silence. Then the older woman says, "The Capital will send us back." I see the horror in her eyes, the hollowness still present in her cheeks from weeks at the harsh prison.

"I won't let that happen," I say, staring each of them in the eye. "You will get to the hangar in time. I promise."

It's madness outside. We keep our masks on to hide our identities as we sprint through the city. Equalists in mecha tanks blast apart the roads, creating giant holes that will make it harder for the Capital to navigate through.

"Form a line!" I shout to my people at the edge of the city, where the ships are shrinking the distance. I pull out the whistle and blow. No sound is made, but it's only a few minutes before I see the giant sky bison soaring toward us from the mountains. My people shriek in surprise, but I sigh in relief. He really is as loyal as Aang said. "Make waves and keep them back! I'm going to attack from above."

Appa lands before us and I climb up to sit by the reigns. I give him a pat on the head. "Thanks for sticking around, Appa. I guess we should have asked you where to find some food." I yank on the reigns. "Yip yip!"

We soar into the air. Slowly, keeping balance, I stand up and hold the reigns with one hand. Then using the other, I pull water to my aid. My hair whips around my face as we glide over the ships and I rain down icy shards. It's not long before the Capital realizes what I'm doing, and they start firing at me. Blasts from cannons and Firebenders alike soar past me and I almost lose my footing. I can hear yelling below, and urge Appa faster.

But the firing keeps coming and it's too hard for me to hold the reigns and try to bend with my other hand. I'm forced back to land, where I can see the Waterbenders struggling against the fire that knocks against the waves. It's like a storm of fire and water, clashing against each other.

I slide off Appa and sprint to help the others—when an arm wraps around my arm and halts me. "Get back up there, you fool."

My legs nearly give out as I stare into those cold, steely eyes. "Pakku? What are you doing here?"

He doesn't answer. Just climbs into the saddle and holds out a hand for me to join him. I hesitate only a moment before following him up. Fully dressed in his uniform apart from wearing a mask, Pakku sits in front of the reigns and yanks on them. I barely manage to whisper "Yip yip" before we're taking off the ground.

Rage quickly settles over me as I loom over him in the saddle. "You—Shai was supposed to get you out!"

"I'm healing—not dead! Now stop your babbling and do something useful!"

With a snarl, I pull up more water from below. It's easier with the use of both my hands, and I'm able to wield twice as much. Pakku glides us over the ships and I send long shards of ice at them, puncturing windows and causing the Firebenders on deck to scatter. One slices straight through a man's chest and pins him to the deck. I almost halt my attack, bile rising in my throat, but I think of Jin and Asami and Ursa and all those of Thirteen I'm trying to protect.

_Some may die so many can live._

My hands shake, but I still manage to shout, "We need to go lower!"

"Not an option!" he roars back.

He's right, of course. We can't go any lower without making us an easier target. Appa is just too big to miss that close. I scan the water below, the ships that seem to go on forever. "There's too many," I murmur. Looking to the sky and over the city, I see balloons starting to rise from the factory. Biplanes, too.

And they're heading this way.

I duck as a pair of biplanes soar over my head and watch as they drop explosions—no, bombs—onto the ships. Water and fire splay out in bursts as parts of the ship are blasted apart. Screams echo in my ears as I see Capital soldiers thrown from their ships, gasping for breath as their armor causes them to struggle in the sea. I lean forward and grasp the edge of the saddle, struggling to breathe. Pakku is yelling at me, but all I hear is a rushing in my ears.

The ships fire back. The cannons…they never stop. The screaming doesn't stop.

Death—there is nothing but death.

As if in a dream, I see another plane come into my line of vision. The pilot wears green tinted goggles, but I recognize the flowing, wavy dark hair and bright lips. Standing on the right wing, gripping the crisscrossing metal to keep balance, is Elias, sending blasts of lightning below.

Not just below, but aiming for one ship.

My eyes travel from the plane as it soars away from us, to the ship that's their target, to the two princes firing at the walls of water. "No," I murmur, thinking of the bomb that is sure to find it's mark. Before I can stop myself, I pull together droplets of water that pool in the saddle and slice part of one of the wings from behind.

Asami swerves the plane in midair, almost throwing Elias off. It's not a fatal blow, but she's forced to retreat, to fly back toward Thirteen. The other two planes follow behind, and I know they won't be coming back. They can't risk losing the planes; they only attacked for a brief distraction.

I sag in relief that only lasts a second because Pakku is shouting at me again.

The Waterbenders are tiring, the blasts of fire pushing their waves back further and further. Any second now they'll build the wall of ice and make a run for the hangar. I think about my promise, and know there's only one way to fulfill it.

I shout at Pakku to turn around and land near the benders. He argues with me briefly before relenting. I think he's more exhausted than he's letting on. He's in no shape to fight, either. When we land on the ground, I slip off my knapsack and hand it to him. He looks at me in silent question.

"Return his crown to his mother," I say, shaking the sack to indicate its contents. "Read the diary before she burns it. Maybe you'll know more about than she does."

"Katara—"

"Take our people before it's too late. I'll hold them off as long as I can."

"Katara!" Pakku shakes me by the shoulders. "You're speaking madness. You're not going out there alone."

"I survived the Black Games, didn't I?" I try to smile at him.

"This is not the Games. This is the beginning of _war_."

"They need you to train them, Pakku. Once you're fully recovered, you'll be more useful than you are now. I'll…I'll meet you there."

"You're being foolish, you stupid girl!"

"I have a promise to keep." I turn away from him before the pain in his eyes can stop me. "And he's not going to kill me."

Then I sprint away and jump into one of the waves the Waterbenders created. I shove out my hands and propel myself forward, as if surfing. In my wake, I harden the water to form waves of ice. Since I got my bending back, I've felt stronger than before, and the water comes to me more naturally. I glide across the water, dodging attacks, swerving in and around the ships. I create a wave large enough to knock one of the smaller ships over, sending soldiers into the water below.

I spot more balloons in the air, and even more planes, as they fly out of Thirteen and head toward the mountains. Fire continues to roar past me, causing me to dodge and jump and even go underwater a few times. Fire and water blur my vision as I notice the head ship gaining on the Waterbenders.

"I want her alive!" I hear someone shout. Zhao. I whip my head around to see the head ship gaining on the Waterbenders. I've managed to avoid their ship so far, attacking the rest of the fleet instead. But when I see Lu Ten strike a hard blow—through a wave, and nailing one of my people—I fear avoidance is no longer possible.

Betrayal and rage blindly fuel me into the air, rising with water spiraling around me, and I send a deadly array of icy daggers at the prince. Lu Ten turns at the sound, and doesn't have time to react. But Zuko leaps down from atop one of ships' roofs, shoving his cousin away as he creates a wave of fire that sends my daggers into a hissy steam.

He moves so fast—but for once I'm faster, and Lu Ten's left arm is cut and bleeding from a dagger that hit its mark. My hand is still moving though, preparing to send another deadly blow Lu Ten's way. But Lu Ten is no longer in my line of attack. My hand swerves at the last second, and the shards slice into the deck instead of Zuko. Breathing hard, my eyes lock on his as he turns his head, kneeling on the ground near his cousin. Surrounded by my element and with the upper hand, I raise my arms, as if to attack.

But I don't. It's his stillness that halts me, his refusal to defend himself or fight me back. I hesitate too long. Zuko grabs Lu Ten and pulls him to his feet, and the two disappear behind a cloud of dark smoke. A sob tears out of me as I drop my hands.

Zhao is shouting from the opposite end of the ship—soldiers are swarming to the upper deck. I hear Appa's roar from above. With a glance upward, I see Pakku guiding him closer than comfort allows. Of course he'd try to save me.

Deciding I've delayed them as much as I can, I shove myself upward, allowing the water to spiral and propel me higher into the sky. One of the men leans over the saddle and reaches for me. I stretch a hand up, my fingers nearly brushing his, when the world explodes and my whole body rears in pain. Shocks send tingles and tremors over every inch of my skin and I scream as I lose control of my water—of everything.

I fall and fall, hearing my name echo in the distance, and when I hit the hard surface below, the blinding pain is the last thing I remember.

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><p>The first time I stir, I'm in such agony that I can only focus on the sound of my breathing. If I open my mouth, a scream will tear from my throat. A brightly lit face swarms into focus as they speak to me, but I'm already fading away, their words lost against the pain wracking my body.<p>

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><p>Hours. Days. I drift in and out of consciousness, memories and dreams blurring together: warm liquid sliding down my throat, gentle rocking, a hand pressed to my cheek, the sensation of flying, hushed voices, a pair of bright blue eyes, the echoing of cannons. The first thing I know is real is the sound of the water knocking against me—no, knocking <em>around<em> me.

It takes me a while to come to the realization: I'm on a ship.

Slumped on my side, my face is smashed against cold, damp ground. I manage to sit up—with much effort, as the clank of chains reveal the irons around my wrists. Immediately the blood rushes to my head and I clamp my eyes shut to keep from vomiting. My head spins, my body still tingling with pain. I struggle to swallow, my throat scratchy and dry, and my fingers feel like they crack as I bend them. Blinking away the fog, I notice the iron bars before me. I'm not just on a ship. I'm in a _cell_ on a ship—the brig—with only a dim candle for lighting.

I crawl across the cold floor and pull myself up, using the bars for support. After I'm sure I won't vomit, I inspect every corner and crevice of my cell, looking for an escape. I find nothing.

So I wait. And I wait. And wait.

The door never opens. My candle eventually diminishes, and no one comes to replace it. I'm left in the shivering dark. With no meals or windows, I lose track of time. I curl in a ball to keep warm and think of happier times. With Sokka and my dad, when life wasn't quite so terrible, even when it was.

Its hours—maybe days—when the door to the brig opens, steps thunder down the stairs, and my cell is opened. I'm dragged to my feet and pulled down the corridor and back up the stairs. Too weak to do anything but stumble over my feet, the light blinds me when I reach the surface. The salt in the air hits me first, then a sea of voices.

One rings clear, however.

"The girl and that man," says Zhao. "Take them below. Kill the rest."

Darkness surrounds me as a dark sack is shoved over my face. The Admiral's words register and I try to fight against the shackles, against the two men holding me. "No!" I yell it protest. But it's no use. A fist comes down on my head, and I know no more.

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><p>I wake up choking. Spluttering and coughing, water drips down my chin. I jerk and find out I'm chained to a chair that's bolted to the ground and my head is pounding, my stomach growling. My eyes flutter open and I force my dangling head up, every muscle in my body screaming in protest. Darkness. Nothing but darkness surrounds me, the smell of cool and damp earth, a sign I'm probably underground.<p>

I try to summon the small drops of water with my fingertips, but nothing happens. I jerk and yank against the chains with a wild, feral scream of frustration.

There's a shift in the darkness, a movement that makes me freeze. "Who's there?" I call, my voice hoarse. But the figure just unlocks the door and slips out. Is this who gave me a drink? Minutes later, the door scrapes back open. I'm too disoriented, my mind still aching and reeling, as a lazy chuckle fills the room and a pair of boots step inside, the sound slow and deliberate.

"So we meet again," says the newcomer. Zhao's face is illuminated by the fire dancing in his palm. He raises his hand and lights one of the scones, and the cold room fills with soft golden light.

I stiffen in my chair, trying to glance behind him. The door remains open, my only chance at escaping.

Zhao seems to read my mind and peers over his shoulder. When he turns back around, his lips are parted into a slight smirk. "Oh, did you think I left it open unintentionally? No, I want them to hear you scream."

I should stay quiet, but a single word escapes me. "_Them?_"

"Ah, yes. Your little rebel friends. It was a pleasure to break them. Almost as much as it will be when we break you."

"I'm not telling you anything," I grit out, clamping down on the fear building in my chest. _Don't be afraid. Don't be afraid._

"That remains to be seen," says Zhao. He places his hands behind his back and begins to pace. "You see, there are two types of people in this world. The type that breaks from the pain inflicted upon themselves, and the kind that requires pain inflected on those they love. I wonder which type you will be." He pauses to give a small, cruel smile. "I think I know, but it's always wise to be certain."

Before I can react, before I can so much as blink, Zhao rushes forward and rams a sharp blade straight through my left hand, pinning it to the arm of the chair. Not just a blade, but one that is piping hot, as if coated in fire. A scream rips out of my throat as pain shoots up and down my arm, flesh and bone tearing. Blood instantly pours from the wound, sliding down my skin and dripping to the ground. I lean forward, breathing hard, blinking away stars as the light catches on the hilt of the dagger. Through the haze of pain, I see the irony.

This isn't just a dagger. It's _Zuko's_ dagger, the one I sent flying at Zhao.

The Admiral chuckles again. "A fine blade, isn't it?" He holds up a hand, and the golden light reveals thick scars across his palm. "Even the most skillful of Waterbenders struggled to heal the bones and tissues. They said I was lucky, that if I had waited any longer to seek out a healer, I may have lost bending in that hand. I wonder—will you be so lucky?"

"You found Thirteen," I grind out. Tears pool in my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. Not yet. "You got what you wanted."

"What I _wanted_?" Zhao tilts his head at me, and for the first time, I see a true madness in the gleam of his eyes. "Oh no, Katara. I am a man of vision that far exceeds the capturing of a long forgotten province."

I wonder, suddenly, if he knows of the Fire Lord's plans for immortality—if he's _helping_ him. I can't ask without revealing my hand, though. So I close my eyes briefly, trying to tune out the throbbing in my hand and ignore that pain that's to come. "As I said, I'm not telling you anything."

"No? Pity. Perhaps this will loosen your tongue." He presses his hands against the arms of my chair and leans forward so that his mouth nearly brushes my ear. "When I'm done with you, he'll be next."

Before I can contemplate his words, Zhao pulls back and with a flash, sets me to fire.

He burns my arms, my legs, my neck, my hair. Whips of fire lash at my skin and each time I jerk away, my hand anchoring me to this chair screams in protest. Once, I try to just yank the blade out, but Zhao answers with a lash to the face, splitting the skin at my cheek. Another Guard comes in—a Waterbender—who is ordered to heal me when the wounds become fatal; to heal everything but my bleeding, skin shredded hand. My skin stitches back together, the bruises and slashes mend, and then it starts all over.

Again and again. Each time I'm healed, it's worse than before, as if my body can't take the tearing and healing any more. The pain is unreal. I've been lashed many times, but never for this long, never this repetitive. I think I black out a few times, but I'm always jolted back awake, either by more agony or the healing. I try to think of Sokka, praying to anyone that will listen to help me. In my desperation, I even pray for Zuko, for the one person who always finds me, even if it's to use for his own gain. I don't care. I don't care who finds me or me why. I just need out of this suffering before it kills me.

But no one comes, and I'm left alone in the dark with this monster.

Zhao pauses after what feels like a century. He's breathing harder now, a testament to the pain he's inflecting on me. "Give me Amun Ra's name. Give me their secret location, their numbers. Give me everything."

Between shuddering and sobbing, a single thought seems to stir in me: He doesn't know her name. Zuko didn't tell him. _Where is he?_ I think desperately, all of the sudden. _Where are you?_

Through my agony, I manage to lift my chin defiantly. "No."

I brace myself for the heat of the flames, for the continuation of torture, but Zhao just chuckles and says, "So be it. Bring the others."

In this nightmare, I didn't notice the Guards that stepped inside. Several disappear from my holding cell, leaving the door still open to reveal a long, dark corridor. The Waterbender has finished healing me, and it's all I can do not to snarl in her face and call her a traitor. She's probably an Elite, a woman born in Nine that sold her soul to the Capital.

A thought suddenly occurs to me. Why haven't I seen the Fire Lord yet? Surely he would have sent for me—assuming I'm at the Capital. I'm about to ask where he is, when there's a scuffle from the corridor and a mess of robes—a girl—is shoved into the room, falling to her knees. She whimpers and shakes as one of the Guards reaches down and yanks her head back by the hair, revealing her face. She cries out and I see those familiar green eyes, wide with fear and terror.

"Jin," I breathe, feeling as though I'm choking. Her face is covered in scrapes, and blood is matted in her messy brown hair. _Jin—How?_ "Leave her alone!" I shout at Zhao.

The Guard drags her to one of the walls and chains her to it. She whimpers and pulls her knees up, cowering against the cold stone. That's when another is brought in, and it takes me a second to realize who it is: Botan, the Director of Resource. Bruised and bloody as well, he too, is chained to a wall. A handful of more Guards file into the room, holding brightly lit torches.

It doesn't stop with the Director and Jin. A tall, darkly cloaked figure stumbles in, ankles and wrists bound in irons. A Guard rips off the hood to reveal a hollow and bruised face, a stubbled chin, and unmistakable green eyes.

My throat bobbles as his name falls from my lips. "_Bowen…_"

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><p><strong>AN:** Thank you for reading! Sorry about the cliffy. :P As I said, I'm going to try to update the next chapter quickly. I know this is a cruel place to end it! But..at least we know Bowen is alive, yes? More on the others next chapter. And more Zuko. Promise. ;) This original chapter was supposed to end with a scene with him but...I had to make a cut somewhere. :P And I figured you guys had waited long enough.

Review Responses:

**Lilith: "****Love what you've done with Ozai wanting immortality, definitely an awesome motive for a villian and I would have never guessed it."** - Thank you! All villains want something, and when you have someone who already has all the power in the world, it was tricky to figure out what he'd want. So, I figured he'd want to keep it forever. :P

**Ferrywings: "****If Zuko is bad or has turned bad... It'll break my heart beyond repair."** - Haha well, I don't think Zuko is ever "bad" but he certainly has moments where his internal conflict tears him in opposing directions.

**WilhelminaCG: "****it's funny how I've come to anticipate any Jin and Bowen interaction almost as much as I do the Katara and Zuko ones."** - I've really enjoyed writing Jin and Bowen. Bowen with anyone, really. He's just so fun. :P But there's something, as you said, fascinating with the two of them. I'll talk more about them later. ;)

**"****Oh you absolutely broke my heart in chapter 12 about Zuko's parents destroying him."** - I think this is what gives him the most conflict now. He has all these people telling him what's right, who he should be, etc. And now, his parents play a huge role. Dad's the Fire Lord and ruler of the world. Mom's the rebel leader trying to overthrow his rule. Not exactly a good place for a boy to be in, lol. But I've really enjoyed this dynamic. More will be explored on this in upcoming chapters.

**Pipedream8989: "****I seem to have forgotten what Equalists stand for"** - The idea is from Legend of Korra. In LoK, the equalists stood for bringing equality to nonbenders, as they felt bending was oppressive. Though it was kind of warped because they were the bad guys, lol. But I liked the concept somewhat, so in this story, the idea is that the Equalists stand for equality between the provinces, and separating them back into the four nations like they used to be.

**Autumnbear: "****How many chapters will there be?"** - Probably 25 to 30, in that range!


	15. Red

**A/N:** As promised, a speedier update! :) Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 15 - Red<strong>

Relief at seeing my friend alive temporarily makes me forget where I am.

I could laugh or cry I'm so overwhelmed with emotion. Bowen looks at me in surprise—clearly not expecting me to be here—before panic spreads across his features. He mouths a single word, one that makes my stomach drop.

_Mica._

That's when I realize that—I don't know. In the midst of chaos and evacuation, I don't know what happened to her. He must see this in my expression because he closes his eyes briefly before his gaze drops and focuses on the dagger buried in my hand. There's a tightening of his jaw. He blinks and our eyes lock again. We seem to have a silent conversation as he reads my face.

_No, _his eyes say.

_ You have to bend it out of me. Use it against them._

A Guard starts to drag Bowen away as he ever so slightly shifts his hands for me to see. At first I notice the blood—wet and dry—around his wrists. Then the spikes digging into his skin. _I can't._

"The fate of your friends is in your hands, Katara," says Zhao, bringing me back to reality. I barely hear him in my panic and rage. _Spiked shackles._ If Bowen so much as jerks the wrong way, he could rip apart his wrists beyond repair.

Two Guards light the remaining sconces in the chamber. With the light, I'm able to see that my chair is in the middle of the room, giving me the perfect view of Jin shaking and trembling against one wall in a heap of dirty clothes; Bowen, looking weaker than I've ever seen him, chained and leaning against the opposite wall by a shoulder, as if he can't support his own weight. He finally notices Jin and can't seem to take his eyes off her.

"Start with the man," says Zhao. The Director is shoved to his knees before me. When he tilts his chin up in defiance, Zhao holds out a palm and fire dances along his fingers: a threat.

The Admiral turns to me. "The name."

"You already know it," I say, struggling to get the words out. The pain in my left hand is so, so unbearable. The edges around my vision burn, blurring in and out of focus. I stopped worrying about my tears long ago. I can't stop them.

"Amun Ra is a title," says Zhao, a single warning. "I want the name."

"I don't know."

Zhao strikes the Director across the face, hard enough that he falls backward. But a Guard is behind him, and his fire lashes the Director forward. He falls and catches himself on his bound wrists, the gesture looking as though he were bowing at my feet. A groan slips from him. Jin, in her corner, shudders even more.

"_Please,_" I say desperately. "We don't know Amun Ra's name! If Zuko didn't know it, what makes you think we would?"

Zhao's eyes are gleaming. "No one trusts a traitor prince."

I hesitate. "Not even you?"

His lips twitch. He remains quiet, but his expression says enough. A sudden fear for the prince tugs at my heart, but then Zhao flicks out his wrist and creates a long, thin whip of golden fire. There's no warning as he slashes his hand down and whips the Director's back. I close my eyes and look away, but Zhao is on me in a second, grabbing my chin painfully and forcing me to look at the scene before me: two Guards, whipping the Director, tearing apart his flesh and clothes, dark red blood seeping onto the ground below. The sound that comes from the Director is animalistic, bone-chilling, and nonsensical. Like….like…

My breath hitches. His tongue…

"That's right," says Zhao, noticing my horror. "Once he gave me what I wanted, he didn't really need to speak again."

What did he give him? I want to ask, but my own voice is locked up as I'm forced to watch the man before me be beaten and burned, with no Waterbender to heal him.

_Crack!_ the whip snaps. _Crack! Crack!_

One whip at a time, the Director's back rips to shreds. In her corner, Jin is sobbing and clawing at the wall.

"Be still and stop your crying!" one of the Guards yells at her.

It only makes her sob harder. "Stop it!" she cries. "Please!"

"Jin," I can hear Bowen saying. _Crack!_ The Director's back arches in agony. "Jin, look at me."

_Crack!_

"Hold your tongue while you have it, Pretty Boy!" snaps Zhao. He leans closer to me, his voice sending shivers down my spine. "The name?"

With each breath I take, each second of hesitation, the whips continue to strike their mark. The Director, shaking and trembling, manages to lift his head between beatings, his face bloody and burnt and nearly unrecognizable. Beneath his tears and the anguish, I see the determination in his steely eyes. His silent message to me.

I close my eyes briefly and force myself to say the words that will forever leave a crack in my heart. "I've told you," I whisper. "I don't have it."

Zhao releases me and steps back. He nods once at his men. The two Guards yank the Director back to his knees. Then another pulls out a sleek dagger from his uniform—and slices the Director's throat. Jin's scream echoes in the chamber and I fight down the bile rising in my throat. Blood spills all around him as he falls forward in a pool of his own making, his back nothing more than ripped and bloodied slabs of skin.

"Who will it be next, Katara? How much blood are you willing to spill?" Zhao holds out his hands—his perfectly pale, clean hands. "And for what? A rebellious group that doesn't even bother to save you? Left you to die so they can escape?"

_Breathe. Just breathe._

"They wouldn't…" I start, but words die in my throat as I stare at the Director. Dead. Dead, because of me.

"They wouldn't? Really?" Zhao laughs coldly and gestures around the chamber. "Where are they now?"

"Just stop," I whisper, begging.

_Breathe, Katara. _

"Bring the girl." Zhao's words slice into me. My head snaps up as the Guards swarm on Jin—Jin, who is screaming and scratching and clawing to get away from the men as they drag her into the center of the room.

"Shut your mouth, you halfwit!" one Guard shouts, and backhands her across the face, her cry echoing in the chamber.

Bowen screams her name.

"Stop it! What do you want?" I shout hysterically. "_What do you want?!_"

"I want you to cooperate." His voice remains calm above Jin's quiet, broken whimpering. "Say you will cooperate, and I will leave them be."

A sound escapes me: a dead, hollow laugh mingled with a sob. "You're just going to kill them anyway."

"Perhaps. But it's your choice whether or not you'll get to watch it."

Frustration tears at me and I thrash against the chains. Pain shoots up and down my arm, so intensely that I cry out—in rage, in anguish.

"Give me the name," Zhao says quietly, bending down so we are eye to eye. His fist crackles, a flash of white-blue light, a warning of the worst to come. "Give me the name, or I will damage your friend so severely she won't even remember _her_ own name."

_ She won't even remember her own name. _

He pulls back, that hot-white light crackling against his fists, and for a moment Ursa's name sits on my tongue—but it's Bowen that snaps, his words that slice into the air. "Asami! Her name is Asami."

"Bowen!" I screech. My eyes widen so broadly I'm surprised they don't pop out. Zhao whips around to face Bowen. _What are you doing?! _I want to scream.

"Oh?" Zhao closes his palm, the threat of lightning gone as quickly as it came. "All those weeks of silence, and now you speak?"

"Let them go, and we'll talk." His voice is tight, controlled. Fresh blood drips down Bowen's arms as he shifts from his position on the wall.

Zhao smirks, finding my outburst so convincing—for the wrong reasons—that he doesn't bother sparing me another look. "You know I can't do that."

"Then leave them here. The Fire Lord will have your head if you kill her," he says, jerking his head to me.

Zhao doesn't argue this, but lowers his gaze to Jin's trembling form. He clicks his tongue. "Such a mad little thing."

"She doesn't know anything, Zhao."

"That remains to be seen," he drawls.

My gaze drops to the body at my feet, to the dark red blood staining the floor. Zhao could have made it quick, less bloody, but he wanted me to see this. Wanted this death to be imprinted in my mind forever.

"Leave them to be questioned by the Fire Lord," says Bowen. "If you torture them to insanity they will be of no use to anyone."

"There are other methods to extracting information beyond brute force. You would know, wouldn't you?"

Bowen clamps his mouth shut and looks away.

Zhao chuckles quietly and pulls out a pair of thin gloves, sliding them carefully over his hands as he speaks, "Such a clever boy, aren't you? In _and_ out of the arena. You know, your mentoring tactics were…ah, rather intriguing."

"Zhao," Bowen warns, his voice low.

"Did you know," the Admiral goes on, turning to face me, "that it was _his_ idea for his tribute—what was the boy's name again?"

Dread and fear creep slowly up my spine. All former defiance leaves me as a certain boy flashes in my mind: wild, messy brown hair; handsome face, a constant smirk to his lips. "Jet…"

"Jet. That's right. The poor orphan boy."

Bowen's voice is sharper this time. "_Enough_."

But Zhao ignores him, moving to stand behind me. His fingers curl tightly around my shoulders as he leans down and whispers something in my ear.

I stop breathing.

His words echo and rattle in my mind and—

And I can't stop shaking.

"Kat," Bowen starts, taking a tentative step forward. "Kat, whatever he's said—"

Whatever he sees on my face stops him midsentence.

Satisfied at the deafening silence that follows, my rendered speech, the Admiral laughs coldly and moves toward the door. He flicks a hand lazily at his men. "Escort the girl back to her cell." His eyes, gleaming cruelly, meet mine. "Leave the body."

"Kat!" Bowen calls after me.

But I don't look at him. I turn and stare at the wall, seeing nothing. Chains clank, and I hear him dragged away, still calling after me. Jin, still quivering and shaking, stumbles across the room, a Guard holding her tightly by the arm. Her eyes meet mine, wide with fear and filled with tears. Her cheek is already swollen, tinged with pink. As the door slams shut, I mouth the only thing I can think of: _I'm sorry._

* * *

><p><em>Crack!<em>

I jolt awake, expecting to see the flash of fire—only to find the Director face down in his own blood, the only light flickering softly from the still-burning sconces. The decay is starting to smell rancid, mixing with the rust and salt. I swallow to keep from vomiting, my stomach roaring with sudden emptiness and hunger.

I don't remember the last meal I ate. With the blood I've lost and the lack of food, my energy is drained to the point that I can barely keep my head up. Sometime ago I lost most of the feeling in my left hand. Maybe it's a blessing; that it's only when I shift the searing pain shoots down my hand again. So I fight to keep still, to keep my breathing even. With the hilt sticking straight up, the engraved words seem to mock me:

_Never give up without a fight._

Years or even months ago, the words would motivate me. Give me that burst of energy to keep going. But I feel….nothing. Drained. Empty.

Half starved, dehydrated, with the loss of feeling in my hand, without water in sight—I have nothing left. Nothing to give. And Bowen will—

_Bowen_.

Zhao's words replay in my mind, like a nightmare that never ends.

_"Don't think I won't be back. I do wonder, though, if you would have spared Bowen's life the way his tribute spared your brother's."_

That familiar, unfair resentment I've always held for Bowen magnifies. Even when we managed to become friends, I could never let it go entirely, that he mentored the boy who killed my brother. But this…I didn't know this.

_You see, it was Bowen's idea for Jet to form an alliance with you and your brother. 'Use their relationship against them_,' _he told him. I was there. I heard the whole thing."_

Did he…did he tell Jet to try to split us apart, to make it easier to kill us off? Was it guilt that drove Bowen to help me all those months ago, when Lu Ten tracked him down?

I can't bear to think about it for another second. Bowen has always been a riddle in his own right, living in secrets and lies. Maybe he'll tell Zhao what he wants. Jin will be questioned and most likely tortured when she doesn't cooperate. And when Zhao realizes neither of them knows where the Equalists are heading, when he realizes I'm the one that knows…

He won't waste any more time. It won't be a member of Thirteen they torture in front of me. It will be someone I love. Because he's a sick man, Zhao was planning on working up to that, which is why the Director was first. When he goes for the kill, he does it slow.

Firelight flickers, and I stare at the blood in front of me, wheeling it to stir. Before drifting off, I had tried to bend it to my will, but it doesn't budge. Not when I'm so weak, so far underground and away from the moon. I wet my dried, chapped lips, tasting salt and blood.

My legs, like my arms, are chained to the chair, which is bolted to the ground. I glance back at the dagger, the mangled flesh and deep cut of the wound. I try to move my fingers, but the pain is so excruciating that I cry out in anguish.

I feel myself slowly being swallowed up by darkness. Maybe there was no end to this pain, and I'd just keep falling and falling.

I failed the Director. I failed my brother, my dad, my province, my new family, the Order—I failed myself. Again and again, time after time, I fail.

And people die.

_Win. _Sokka's words echo in my hazy mind, blurring memories and nightmares. _Don't let them win._

_ But there's no escape,_ I think miserably. _I have no weapons._

Maybe I'm so far gone that I hallucinate it, or maybe it's my subconscious, but I could have sworn I hear words whisper in my ear: _You are a weapon._

I glance back at the dagger, at the blood crusting and dripping around the grotesque wound. It's a lot of blood, but not as much as the pool at my feet. Maybe, just maybe, if I concentrate enough…

I close my eyes and take deep, slow breaths, the way I remember Zuko doing in the woods in the arena. The soundless chamber helps my concentration, as I focus on the water flowing through my body. I picture my body a puppet, with my mind controlling the strings.

I'm able to move my right hand enough to angle it toward my mangled one, curling my fingers and pulling, yanking the strings to my will.

I yank harder. There's a surge, and that's when I feel it. The blood stops, held in my control. My right hand shakes, sweat beads on my forehead as I blink back stars. I raise my right hand slowly, using the blood to push out the dagger.

The blinding, gut wrenching ache rips me apart and I scream. But I can't stop now, even if it kills me. I pull and pull, the blood pushing, the dagger sliding through ripped and tender flesh. I'm crying so hard I can barely see straight, fighting to keep going.

That final pull, and my world explodes in agony as the dagger hits the floor—and then nothing at all.

* * *

><p>Katara. Katara.<p>

_Katara. _

My name. I hear my name, pulling me out of unconsciousness. The dark is comforting, a bliss I welcome, but my name keeps echoing and yanking me out of it until I blink—and blink, and a pair of gold eyes swarms into focus.

This…it can't be…

"Katara." The voice is closer now, ringing in my ears. It almost sounds real.

I struggle only a moment as I blink again.

All I see is red—red, red, red. So much red I could drown in it.

"Look at me, Katara." I try to follow that voice, but when my eyes slide down again, to the swirling crimson below, a hand gently tilts my chin up. "Right here. At me."

And there he is.

That face. Those sharp cheekbones. Full lips. That scar—a light in the darkness. My mouth wobbles. This dream…I burst out crying. I struggle to breathe, my cries coming out in breathless heaves.

Zuko leans forward and presses his forehead to mine. "I'm so sorry," he says, his voice thick with emotion. I just nod against him, shaking, breathing in that familiar ash scent.

_You even smell real._

He pulls back and goes very still, eyes hardening. A hand slides through my hair—my hair, which is shorter in some places and uneven, ends burnt off to crisps. Jaw tightening, his eyes fall to my left hand.

"Let me see," he orders, his voice a lethal calm. When he touches my wrist, the searing pain tells me this is, in fact, not a dream. This is real.

I cry out and try to jerk away, but the chains hold me in place. Zuko curses under his breath. He shucks off his shirt and carefully, tenderly, starts to wrap my damaged hand. It burns and throbs, but I grit my teeth and let him staunch the bleeding.

"Water," I manage to croak.

"I don't have any," he admits reluctantly. "And we don't have much time."

Instinct to escape and survive silences the thousand questions that suddenly pop into my head. And because he is here when no one else is, I have no choice but to trust him.

Zuko goes to work on my chains, using two fingers to burn through the metal. Once he finishes with my arms, he bends down to my legs, careful to keep the fire from scorching my skin. Soon the chains break and clank to the ground, freeing me.

The prince yanks down one of the torches and hands it to me. Then, wordlessly helps me stand before bending and lifting me into his arms. The door, I finally notice, is open, and when Zuko carries me through it, I take one long, last look at the Director. I expect to see the dagger on the ground, but as the prince kicks the door shut, it's nowhere to be seen.

I keep my bandaged hand clutched to my chest, using my good hand to grip the fire that lights our way as Zuko navigates the dark corridors. He moves quickly, but not enough that I'm jolted too roughly in his arms. It's no time until I'm light headed and drifting in and out of consciousness. The energy used to bloodbend has taken it's toll and I have to fight to stay awake. Suddenly it annoys me that I'm too weak to keep my eyes open, let alone stand, my pride stinging.

"Do you even know where you're going?" I ask, surprised how slurry my words come out.

"Yes," he all but snaps. He pauses at a fork, glancing left and right.

"Doesn't look like it."

"Just give me a moment."

I blink sleepily. "Where are we?"

"The catacombs under the palace. It's a labyrinth of tunnels."

"I noticed." I sigh and close my eyes. "Don't think this means I've forgotten what you did."

"I'd expect nothing less."

"You betrayed me." The words come out sadder, softer, than I wanted.

A pause. Then a sigh, and then nothing.

* * *

><p>The catacombs feel endless. Turn after turn, long stretches of tunnels, some lined with iron doors and some empty, we travel the dark for what feels like hours. He stops once to stretch and take a short break, his rigid muscles gleaming with sweat. It's then I catch the glimmer of silver on his belt, the dagger—cleaned from my blood—attached to his hip. When I offer to walk, he just tells me I'll slow us down, and carries me again. I don't argue, mostly because I know he's right and we have no time to waste, even if my pride continues to take jab after jab. When Zhao realizes I'm gone, Zuko says, the catacombs will be swarmed with Guards.<p>

I drift in and out, the throbbing in my hand continuing to pull me from any real sleep, until I feel Zuko stop—and footsteps continue. My eyes snap open just as a figure looms from the shadows, moving closer and closer, until firelight catches a strong jaw and brightly lit green eyes.

I'm out of Zuko's arm in a heartbeat, dropping the torch and pulling the dagger free from his belt. When my feet touch the floor, I struggle with my weight and stagger into one of the walls, keeping distance between us. I hold out the dagger with my right hand.

"Kat," Bowen starts.

"Don't talk to me," I snarl at him. "You gave him Asami's name!"

"I had to give him something!"

"Don't you—"

My words die away as I notice the figure in Bowen's arms—the ratty hair, torn clothing. I'm so dizzy all the sudden that I slide down the wall, the dagger falling limply at my side. I stare intently at her chest, and when I notice she's breathing, the relief is so intense that I momentarily feel less irritated.

"Were you followed?" Zuko asks, wordlessly bending down and prying the dagger lightly from my fingers. I'm too tired to fight him.

Bowen slowly drags his gaze away from my face to look at the prince. I focus on his bare wrists, remembering the shackles. Dried blood still cakes his skin. "Doesn't look like it."

"The others?"

"Once I got Bumi inside, he'll use his senses to locate them."

I open my eyes. "Bumi? He's here?"

Bowen nods.

"Toph," I find myself whisper. "Is she…?"

"With Bumi—alive."

The way he says it, like there's much more to this story, has me opening my mouth to question him, but Zuko helps me to my feet and says, "We need to go, Katara. We're almost there now."

I can't help it as I cast a glare between the two of them. We have much, much to talk about.

This time I insist on walking. He's carried me far enough and it will do neither of us any good if we run into trouble and are both physically exhausted. With a supportive arm, Zuko helps me through the tunnels, lighting the way with fire in his other palm. My eyes frequently fall to Jin, sleeping quietly in Bowen's arms, and I can't help but wonder how—how he managed to get her, how this is happening. But those questions can wait, and I use all my energy on putting one foot in front of the other.

By the time we finally reach the stairs that will lead us out of this maze, it's a wonder I don't collapse right on the stones. I might have, had I not stopped short at the sight of a Guard standing in the way. But Zuko just places a hand on my lower back in assurance, moving to step in front of me and greet the stranger.

"Prince Zuko," says the masked Guard, bowing. He hands Zuko a knapsack. "Your belongings, as requested."

"Thank you, Li." Zuko claps the Guard on the shoulder. "Your aid will not be forgotten."

The Guard opens the door with a click of a lock. "It is my honor to serve you, Your Grace."

"Give this to my uncle." Zuko bends down and pulls a sealed scroll from his boot.

"Of course." The Guard pauses, glancing past us. "Come quickly."

Zuko reaches into the knapsack and tosses me a hooded cloak. I yank it on awkwardly, careful with my hand. Jin finally stirs, panic setting in quickly. But before I rush to her, Bowen is murmuring softly in her ear and she calms down. The moment is so surprisingly tender and intimate that I glance away. After the four of us are properly concealed, we head up the stairs and finally—finally, we find the light.

The door takes us to an old, abandoned servant's quarters. Zuko explains that many years ago, when his grandfather was Fire Lord, the servants navigated through the catacombs so that they were never seen. But eventually Azulon closed the catacombs off, and they have been abandoned for years. Except when Zhao—or someone appointed by the Fire Lord—wanted to torture prisoners. No one could hear the screaming.

Zuko leads the way, me following closely. Behind me, Jin clutches Bowen's side, clinging to him as though he holds all her weight. We share a brief smile, and the dullness in her eyes tells me she's drank some kind of calming or sleeping tonic. Even though she's awake, she still looks a bit dazed.

We exit the quarters through a hidden door behind a tapestry and to my surprise, it leads us down a corridor and outside the palace. The streets are bustling, the glow of the sun momentarily blinding me. But there's no time to stop, and soon we're lost in a sea of Capital citizens.

I don't notice I'm walking too quickly until Zuko reaches out and grabs my hand, slowing me down. "Running will draw attention," he murmurs closely.

_So will my hand if I don't keep it covered,_ I think, shrugging the sleeve down to conceal it further. The adrenaline of escaping, of seeing the sun and smelling the fresh salty air, gives me the energy to keep pace with Zuko. We don't run, as he suggests, but we still move swiftly.

We pass the busy market square filled with colorful tents and merchants trying to sell and barter spices, intricate rugs, oils and perfumes, and baubles that sparkle and shine. People laugh, children dance and play in the fountain, and gambling games are set up in the far corner, men and women cheering and clapping at their fortunes. For a moment I find myself not hating the citizens of the Capital, but envying them for their happiness, even if it's blind.

Zuko swipes some peaches from one of the vendor stands, his hands so swift that even I miss it. Once we leave the square, he hands me a peach. My fury only lasts a second and soon I'm biting into the soft flesh, the juices spilling down my mouth. It's not water, but it's close, refreshing and quenching. I eat the fruit so quickly that Zuko silently hands me his own.

Guards pay us no attention, and we're able to find the waiting wagon with no further issues. The fact that Zuko has to be smuggled out of his own city would be more amusing if I wasn't so exhausted.

Two large, thick muscled komodo rhinos are latched to a covered supplies wagon. A dozen barrels sit inside, filled with—

"Are those fireworks?" I ask quietly.

Zuko nods. "The Fire Days Festival begins tomorrow."

A festival? I've never heard of it. We certainly don't have any in Nine. But that explains the colorful decorations I noticed in the streets and hanging from buildings.

Our driver, a man with gentle eyes and a long split mustache, bows to the prince. It takes me a moment to recognize him: Fung, the old man I watched play a board game with General Iroh during my days as mentor. His eyes twinkle at me as he holds up the flap at the back of the wagon, gesturing us inside.

I almost can't believe it, that after so many rushed and chaotic escapes, I'd be slipping silently into this wagon, without Guards at my heels. I'm almost as surprised when I learn where we're going.

* * *

><p><strong>AN**: Thank you for reading! This chapter was tough. Not only is it pretty dark, but I wrote the Zutara reunion scene about five different ways lol. I've had a lot of people ask about how long I think this story will be. Originally, I guessed 15-20 chapters. Now, looks like it will be more like 25-30 chapters. :) Anyway, hope you enjoyed the update.

It's time for another **Q&A!** As always, you can ask a character a question. (Remember, I won't answer anything too spoilery, so feel free to ask several and I'll choose one.)

Review Responses:

**easilyobsessedctc: "****I will never get tired of your writing and imagination and I cannot- I mean, I seriously cannot- wait for all of your future stories to be posted so I can gush over them, as well!"** - Wow, thank you so much! I'm so glad to hear you're enjoying my stories. :D

**Pipedream8989: "****Was Katara struck by lightning"** - Well, kind of. The water that she was using to propel herself was. :P

**"****They have very different perceptions which could change their goals and create a complex conflict among the antagonists."** - Yes, Zhao and Ozai are both super fun and interesting to write as antagonists/villains. Ozai does operate more under his sense of honor, as twisted as it might be. Zhao has very little honor. lol

**InItToWinIt: "****Ugh, the decisions Ursa has to make. She's kind of cold too but understandably so. I like how you've written her, taking into account what she's been through and her position as a leader"** - Ursa is one of my favorites to write and I'm glad you like my take on her! I think another thing to consider is that she was married to the Fire Lord for many years, and learned some things from him (and other members of the royal family) as well.

**Georgia: "Will Zuko ever find out about the scars that katara has on her wrists from ozai?**** "** - Posssssibly. If it comes up. It's not something I essentially have planned, but if the scene drifts toward that reveal I certainly won't avoid it.


	16. The Beach House

**A/N:** Well, this chapter ended up being about 1,000 words longer than I expected. :P Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 16 - The Beach House<strong>

The wagon bounces lightly as we travel through Province One. The bed of the wagon is completely filled with barrels, but Fung left an open area for us to cram together near the front and away from the back opening. Should a Guard inspect it, they'll hopefully not need to look past the first few barrels filled with fireworks.

It isn't until the sounds of the bustling citizens fade and Jin's breathing evens out that I dare to speak. "Province 2?"

"We have an estate on the beach," Zuko answers. In the crammed, tight space, our shoulders are pressed together. He shifts to get more comfortable.

I open my mouth—to tell him how insane I think this plan is—but he seems to read my mind and says, "My father hasn't been there in years, and when he returns and realizes we're gone, he'll expect us to head where Thirteen was re-evacuated to." Zuko pulls his legs up, resting his forearms against his knees. "Which would be—"

"—somewhere far larger than a beach house," I finish for him. Hiding from the enemy so close and in plain sight is risky; so risky, that maybe the Fire Lord won't even consider looking anywhere near the Capital.

What about my dad? The rest of Thirteen?

I shove my worries away temporarily as Zuko's words remind me of something Zhao had said.

"Where is the Fire Lord if he's not at the Capital?"

"I don't know."

Dread fills me as I think of a certain diary. _Not now_, I remind myself.

Even if some of the pain has reduced, my hand is still throbbing, and the loss of blood is making me even more light headed now that the adrenaline is gone. I clutch it tighter against my chest, the blood fabric completely soaked through. Across from me, Bowen, too, is asleep, his head straight back and stiff, with Jin resting on his shoulder. The hollows in his cheeks are even more prominent in this light. Even asleep, he looks as exhausted as I feel.

"We'll be there in a few hours." Surprised by his tone, I glance at Zuko, but he's staring off to the side not looking at me, his jaw clenched tight. Why is he angry?

I'm too tired and drained to ask, so I just lean my head back and close my eyes. There will be time for questions and answers. Right now, I just want to sleep.

It feels like I've only just drifted off when I'm shaken awake. "We're here," says Zuko. He helps me stand, and then it's Bowen sliding an arm around me to support my weight. Zuko leans down and lifts a still sleeping Jin into his arms. Bowen and I hobble after the prince, maneuvering around barrels and trying not to fall.

Fung helps us out of the wagon and into the dimming sun. The first thing I notice is the smell—the salty, rich warm air of Two. Then my gaze drifts up the rocky path lined with lush trees to the stone courtyard resting in the middle of an enormous estate. It's set high in the cliffs, overlooking the ocean, waves crashing against the sandy shore. There are no other houses in sight, and I have the strong suspicion this private estate extends to the beach below, too. A good place to hide, indeed.

Still gawking at the Fire Lord's retreat home, I cling against Bowen as Zuko speaks quietly to Fung, Jin sleeping limply in his arms.

"I'm sorry, Kat," Bowen says quietly, his words warm in my ear. "I…what Zhao said…"

"Later," I breathed, mostly because I didn't want to think about what Zhao had said. Not right now, when I can barely stand. "You said Bumi is getting the others. Who?"

"Jeong Jeong, Toph, Piandao." For some reason he says the last name like it's an annoyance and leans back so we're resting against the wagon. "A few others from Thirteen they captured, I think."

I suddenly remember seeing Bowen rip his arm from Piandao's grasp when the elder man offered to help him at the prison, the disdain Bowen seems to have for the Lotus member. Maybe it has to do with their roles in the Games as mentors, or possibly even Elite status. Bowen was an Elite instructor, after all. "Is there a history with you and Piandao? Was he an Elite or something?"

"Something like that," he says flatly. "I'd suggest we not be roommates."

My heart flutters. "They're coming here?"

"That was our plan."

_Our_ plan.

"Tell me everything," I say.

Bowen is quiet so long, I almost ask him again, but he finally takes a deep breath and says, "The Capital had a fleet surrounding the prison. So she let him go—let him go back, before they realized he was with us and captured him, too. Surrounded, we had no escape, but the prince…he said he could fly back. I thought they might send us back there too, but they brought us to One instead."

Let him…Zuko. Bowen is talking about Toph and Zuko. My eyes shift to the prince as he continues speaking with Fung. My chest starts to ache.

Zuko never fought the others. Toph had _let him go_—and then they were captured. I close my eyes tightly. "Did you tell them about Thirteen's location? Is that how they knew?"

"No." Bowen sighs. "They have a truth seer—an Earthbender that can detect lies by sensing changes in their heart rate and breathing. We were questioned thoroughly."

I shift uncomfortably. "Then how did you fool them?"

"Because Toph and I had been working on the technique for months," he says. "I can't say the same for the others."

"Did you ever try to escape?"

Bowen shakes his head slightly. "They made us drink a tonic that effects our bending. Every morning, we had to drink it." A dark, bitter laugh. "As if the shackles weren't enough."

I glance down, at his ragged and bloody wrists keeping me steady, at my own soaked hand. Maybe it's the exhaustion, maybe I'm just delicious, but I can't help it—I laugh.

Bowen glances at me, his cracked lips twitching slightly. "What?"

"We're a mess." To my horror, a small sob escapes me. "Such a mess."

"Yeah, I know." He presses me tighter against him. "But it's nothing we can't piece back together."

I'm not so sure, so I remain quiet as Zuko motions us over with a nod, and we follow him up the path to the Fire Lord's estate.

Inside is just as large as I expected, if empty and cold, the furniture caked in dust and abandonment. The front room is lavishly decorated, with crimson silk drapes and fine oak and elaborate paintings. Rooms are separated by arches, and I catch sight of a long table in a dining room. Zuko points out the wing filled with bedchambers. I want nothing more than to crumple on a warm bed, but my hand needs tending to.

Bowen and I collapse on one of the soft sofas in the main room, a mess of blood and sweat. Zuko carries Jin away, likely to her new room. I lean my head back and close my eyes, only opening them again when I hear my name, over and over. Zuko has returned, and he's holding a basin filled with water. I blink; completely unaware I had fallen asleep.

Zuko takes a seat on my other side. "Give me your hand," he says softly.

"I can heal myself." I try to sound strong, but I'm fooling no one.

"Let me see it."

I hold out my hand. Carefully, Zuko pushes up the sleeve of my cloak and then starts to unravel the bloody cloth. I wince and nearly gag when the cloth is completely removed. Strips of flesh hang from my skin, torn and shredded, caked with crusty blood. Beneath the carnage is a flash of ivory—bone.

Slowly, I lower my hand into the water filled basin on Zuko's lap—and jerk it out, hissing. "You could have warned me it was salt water!"

"I didn't think it would be a surprise."

I _should_ have known that, and maybe if I wasn't about to pass out again, I may have. Of course it's salt water. The wound needs cleaning before I can heal it.

I steel myself and dunk my hand down again, clamping my teeth down to keep from screaming. I close my eyes, trying to separate the agonizing pain and the familiar warmth that spreads through me when I heal.

Cracking my eyes open, I watch as the water seems to _blink_. It blinks between normal water and a glowing, bright shade of blue. The warmth in my body feels the same, as if my healing is going in and out. I try to keep hold of the glow for what feels like several minutes, but it keeps flashing.

"You're weak," Zuko offers as an explanation. "Too weak to heal."

"I'm not—"

"You are." His voice is hard, unyielding. "There's no sense in pretending otherwise. Pull your hand out and let me see if I have the supplies to stitch up the wound. You can try again tomorrow."

I almost argue, but he's right. My body and mind is so physically drained that even bending a little bit is nearly killing me.

Finally, I nod, and pull out my hand. Zuko stands up, taking the basin with him. I turn my head to tell Bowen he too needs to soak his wrists in salt water, only to find him asleep, his head bent sideways on his shoulder. His wrists lie limply on his lap, palms up, wrapped in bloody bandages. Seeing him like this…he looks younger than his twenty years.

Zuko returns with the thick black thread for sutures and a needle. I'm suddenly reminded of the Games, when Zuko sealed my wounds and I sealed his.

"Before I try to heal him, you'll need to stitch him up, too," I say, gesturing toward the slumbering Bowen.

"I know."

I glance down at my hand, at the mangled flesh. I really need a trained Healer, not even a Waterbender necessarily, but someone that knows how to treat serious wounds. But Zuko is all I have, and I just need the wound sealed up long enough to staunch the bleeding. Tomorrow…I'll set it right tomorrow.

Zuko sits beside me again and hesitates.

"Just do it," I say with a sigh.

"I can…" Zuko swallows. "I can put you to sleep, if you want. Like I did to that girl from Five in the Games. It won't be as effective as a sleeping tonic, but it might help with the pain."

Ty Lee. I remember, suddenly, watching Zuko apply certain Chi pressure points to the young girl so that she would fall into a peaceful slumber. He did it so she wouldn't feel the pain when she died.

"Okay," I whisper.

Zuko sets down the thread and needle, and then stands to move behind me on the sofa. His hands are warm on my neck, sliding under my ratty hair. My hair…I'll have to do something about that, too. Warmth spreads over me as Zuko presses into various places on the back of my head and neck, and starts to rotate his fingers. It takes a few minutes, but slowly I feel myself growing heavy, shutting down, the feeling of his hands lulling me to sleep.

* * *

><p>I wake up in a soft, large poster bed, and the ache in my left hand sends reminders of last night's grueling stitching. Zuko's technique had worked a little, but not enough to keep me asleep through the entirety of the procedure. It had been painful when he stitched my cheek in the Games. This had been worse.<p>

I roll over slowly, only to pause when I notice the bed is not empty. Fully dressed on top of the sheets, back propped against the headboard, legs straight out with ankles crossed, arms crossed and head dangling uncomfortably, is Zuko. The strangest part isn't the scene itself, but the normalcy I feel by it.

I frown at his posture, the uncomfortable way sleeping while sitting up in bed must feel, and wonder idly why he didn't just lie down. Against rocks, on a bed of dirt, branches in the trees…of all the places I've slept by him, a bed is probably the least bizarre.

When I push the ivory sheets down, I notice I'm in fresh, plain robes—robes that look like they might have belonged to a servant. I'm suddenly thankful for the underclothes I still have beneath, even if the Games taught me modesty was not always a luxury.

I sit up slowly and glance down at my hand, at the freshly wrapped bandages that surround my sutures. Perhaps not the work of a professional, but the bandages show just a tinge of pink. I'll need to find water soon once I eat something. I'm still weak and groggy, though a little refreshed with sleep.

The bedchamber is relatively sparse, with a simple oak dresser and lengthy mirror. A door leads to what I assume is a closet, and a dressing screen sits in the opposite corner. The single window is covered by dusty, gold drapes, with a single oil painting—a mural of Province 2, it looks like—hanging on one wall.

Zuko stirs slightly when I stand up. There's so much I want to ask him, but I can see the shadows under his eyes, and know he got little sleep last night. So I ease him to a more comfortable position and tuck his legs under the sheets, pulling them to his chest. He flips over to his side, burying the scarred side of his face into the pillow. I touch his shoulder gently before leaving the room, shutting the door behind me.

As I move down the hall, I hear voices—voices that are so familiar that I find myself sprinting toward them. I skid to a stop just outside the main room—which has turned into an infirmary, it would seem—and notice Jeong Jeong—gaunt, his cheeks hollow—and Piandao slumped on the sofas. They both notice me and Piando offers a gentle smile.

"When did you arrive?" I ask. There are three others in the room as well, patching up wounds or napping. Faces I recognize from Thirteen, but names that I don't. A serving dish filled with fruit sits on one of the tables and I have no doubt the prince stole them this morning.

"Late last night," says Piandao. "It is good to see you, Katara."

"You too. Both of you." Looking closer, I notice their scarred arms and angry welts, the bruising under Piandao's right eye. My answering smile fades and I have the decency not to ask them what happened, because I already know. So I add, "I'll get some water and try to heal you all. Where's Bumi?"

"The plan was for Bumi to get us out, not come with us. The General requires him elsewhere."

So Iroh was in on the escape, too. He probably helped Zuko plan it.

"And Toph?"

"Resting." The way Jeong Jeong says it chills me to the bone. He never speaks without roughness.

"Is she okay?" I manage.

Piandao nods, but his dark eyes are sad. "She will be weak. They…kept her heavily sedated."

I feel like there's more to this story, so I swipe a piece of fruit and go back down the east wing, searching for Toph. I find her room at the end of the hall, and when I push open the door, Bowen is here, sitting by her side. His tired eyes find mine and he gives me a small smile.

Toph looks too small and fragile in the large bed, her raven hair spilling wildly around her face. She looks thinner than I remember, too, the roundness in her cheeks gone. My breath stills as I notice the angry burns along her arms and neck.

Bowen leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His wrists, I notice, are freshly bandaged. I don't even remember that. He notices my stare and glances down. "He's no Healer, but not bad for a prince."

I let out a breathy laugh. Toph's room is just as bare as mine, though there are two beds in this room. Jin is slumbering away in the other.

"Tell me what happened to Toph," I say quietly, taking a bite into the soft, juicy flesh of fruit.

Bowen sighs. "I don't know, exactly. They kept us separated. But…I overheard some of the Guards. The Fire Lord wasn't happy when he found out who she was."

_The girl that escaped the arena_. No, I imagine he was furious.

"Why didn't he kill her?" I wonder aloud. The Fire Lord would never allow a public execution. That would mean admitting someone bested him. No, he'd do it swiftly, quietly. But…he hadn't.

"I don't know."

I watch her sleeping form another moment and then glance at Jin. "Keep an eye on them, will you? I'm going to fetch some water."

"Kat, wait." He's up in a flash, reaching out and snagging my wrist, moving quick as lightning. "I want you to know that…before, the things I said as a mentor…"

"I know." _Please don't. Please stop._

"No, you don't know, because you've only experienced it once." His green eyes are flashing, lit with pain and hurt. "I've been chosen every year but one to mentor since I won, and I've watched too many kids die. Jet had no one, Kat. I don't know why, but his home was burned down by the Guards, his parents killed, when he was a child. He grew up in the orphanage. You…" he swallows uncomfortably. "You were just another tribute, an obstacle in the way for my tribute to find happiness and _live_. I'm sorry for what happened to your brother, but you have to understand I was trying to save someone, too."

I reach out and cup his cheek, tears slipping down my own. For as strong and arrogant as Bowen is, he is only human, and he too knows loss beyond my comprehension. I recognize the haunting in his eyes as the same shadows I see in Pakku's.

"I know," I say, and he reaches up to squeeze my hand. How can I blame him, when Sokka and I schemed over Zuko and Azula, willing to use their relationship against each other? "We all lose a little of ourselves when we're desperate to save the ones that need it most."

"You're becoming philosophical on me. Been spending too much time with those royals."

I laugh and lower my hand. "Zuko is about as philosophical as a dead leaf."

"Be careful. It might run in the family."

"I'll keep that in mind." My smile fades as Bowen turns his attention to Jin. "I'm sorry about your mom, Bowen. If there had been time…we had to move fast. Cookie was good to her. He wouldn't have left without her or any of the kitchen staff."

He just nods. "Best to think that way, isn't it?"

Because I don't know what to say to that, I leave the room to find the kitchen and search the wooden cabinets for a basin, finally finding one in one of the pantries. I pass the others dozing in the main room on my way out, my steps quiet along the wood paneled floor.

The sun is warm on my face when I step outside, high in the sky. It must be near midday, which means I probably slept over ten hours. The breeze ruffles my dirty and damaged hair, the saltiness making my mouth water and reminding my stomach just how hungry I am.

I make a mental check list as I walk down the stone path to the beach: heal myself, take a bath, heal the others, eat and drink, cut my hair, formulate a plan…

Even though the beach is empty, I still wish I had something to hide my face. It's too hot to wear a hooded cloak, but a scarf would have worked just fine. I could stand at the edge of the water all day, digging my toes into the sand and listening to the waves crash against the shore, but I'm too paranoid; so I hold the basin with my injured arm and quickly fill it with water before heading back to the house.

* * *

><p>I had been wrong. <em>This<em> was worse than the pain of the sutures. Voices that are not real, only existing in my head, echo in my mind:

_It will take time._

_ You suffered a great injury._

_ Let your body heal naturally._

Words of encouragement, words to try to distract me from the basin of water sitting in front of me. When I got back to the house, I came to my room and plunged my injured hand back into the water. This time, the water glowed long enough to heal the skin and ripped ligaments. But it had not been enough.

I stare at my left hand, bending my fingers, clenching and unclenching my fist. The sutures had fallen out as my skin stitched back together. But the injury was deeper than that, deeper than my water would heal. Waterbending is a form of healing, but it isn't a miracle. And it doesn't cure everything.

It doesn't cure this.

I don't know how long it is before Zuko stirs. I can't quite move from where I sit on the floor, huddled around the basin like it is my lifeline. He sighs and slides out of bed, nearly out the door when he turns and notices me. He blinks and his hand falls from the doorknob.

"I healed it," I whisper. "I healed my hand."

Zuko approaches me slowly. His dark hair is mussed with sleep, falling into sharp eyes that seem to look me over with an intensity that makes me glance away. "Katara—"

"I healed my hand and it doesn't matter."

He drops before me, bending down so we're eye to eye. I let him take my hand to examine it, turning it over. His warm fingers brush across the scars now woven into my skin.

"How am I supposed to bend with one arm?" My words come out strong, but my eyes are filled with tears. "How am I supposed to fight like this?"

"Because you must." Zuko places my hand between both of his, sending warmth through my core.

"I can't—" It feels like I'm choking. "I already lost my bending once. What if I never gain it back?"

_They said I was lucky, that if I waited any longer to seek out a healer, I may have lost bending in that hand._

He reaches into his robes and pulls out a dagger—_his_ dagger, the blade that shattered my flesh and pierced his own heart. He holds it out in front of me, and I see my own dead eyes reflect back in the steel. "Then you learn how to fight without it," he says, his eyes hard and fierce.

I take the dagger with my left hand, staring at the words engraved in the blade. I've always held weapons in my right, my dominant hand.

My eyes flick back up to his, his face suddenly so close I can barely breathe. For some reason my words to him yesterday bobble on my lips: _You betrayed me_.

But even as it's the only coherent thought in my mind, that's not what comes out.

"You left me," I whisper.

Zuko swallows. "You left me first."

* * *

><p>It takes me unusually long and drains most of my energy, but I manage to use my right hand to heal the bruises and cuts of the others. I succeed mostly because I use small amounts of water. If I have any hope to bend a wave or control a lengthy whip with one hand, I'll need to train and build up my strength. Like any physical ability, it requires my muscles to strengthen. But my healing isn't on par as a master like Pakku, and deep injuries like Bowen's wrists still require bandages.<p>

Zuko asks me to write Ursa a letter, seeking confirmation they arrived safely at their destination, since I'm the only one here that knows where that is. He doesn't ask me where they went. I can't decide if it's because he's not sure if I trust him, or if he thinks his mother doesn't. The thought leaves me a little cold, but I ignore it and finish the letter with a swoop of ink, making sure to ask about Mica and several others. The prince sends it with one of the members of Thirteen, an older man named Leo, and tells him where the firehawk post is located in the city. Leo is a Firebender, too, with no wanted poster out for him. He'll be able to navigate through Two without suspicion.

The plan is to wait for Ursa's word for further instruction. Until then, we stay hidden, recover and train. Because most of our faces are recognizable, the other two escapees—thankfully also Firebenders—are sent into town with a small bag of gold to purchase food and supplies from the market.

After a long hot bath, I hole up in Toph and Jin's room, sitting on the floor and twirling the dagger, watching as golden light spills over the shiny blade; in my other hand, a pair of scissors that I took to my hair. Because of the damage, I had to cut it. Now my wavy curls fall just past my shoulders, if I bothered to leave it down. For now, it's tied up into a messy bun.

The others leave me alone, letting me feel sorry for myself. Sokka would probably be disappointed in me, but right now I don't care. Right now I just want to scream because everything I treasure always gets taken from me.

_It could be worse_, I can hear Sokka saying. _Remember when you had no bending at all? _

He is right, but I'm so tired of thinking this way, of comparing every horrible thing that happens to me to something that could be worse. It's no way to live, and I feel the dark cloud over my head spreading and spreading, until there's no sunlight left to streak through.

"Are you going to heal me, or just sit there all day?" says a raspy voice.

I can't help but laugh, not even surprised Toph wakes without my notice—or that she knows I'm here. I stand up and move to her side of the bed. She rubs her eyes and cringes at the movement.

"It's good to see you, too," I say, bending down to grab the spare basin of water I had waiting for when she woke. My voice quiets as I add, "Tell me what happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Tell me, or I won't heal you."

Toph barks a laugh, and cringes again. I wonder if there's damage I can't see. "Listen to you, dishing out threats."

"I want to heal you," I say earnestly, "but I need to know why the Fire Lord spared you."

"He wasn't sparing me." Her voice drops, sounding smaller than I've ever heard. "He was just going to let me die slowly."

I stare at her thin frame, the hollowness in her cheeks, the bony wrists tugging the sheet higher. "When did you eat last?" I ask emptily.

She just shrugs. "After they questioned me, they just…left me there. In some dark cell. Made me drink something that messed up my mind. I was there, but I wasn't."

"What did you tell them?"

"Lies. What I'm good at telling."

"I'm sorry," I offer, even though it's not enough. Every single one of us…we've all had to pay for the freedom of making it here.

"Don't be. I did it for myself, my own sense of self-preservation."

"Maybe." I straighten the sheets, tucking in the loose pieces. "But you still let Zuko go, even if it meant your own capture."

She shrugs stiffly. "So?"

"So," I say with a small smile, "you're not as heartless as you pretend to be. Sometimes you _might_ even be a little noble."

"Don't push it, Sweetness." She says it with ferocity, but the small part of her lips tells me she might just want to smile. Toph takes a compliment about as well as Zuko.

"I'll get you something to eat and drink," I say, touching her arm gently, "then I'll try to heal you."

"What do you mean, you'll _try?_ Haven't you mastered that technique by now?"

My stomach drops, my left hand suddenly heavy. "Not quite. I...Zhao wounded me permanently. I can't bend with one hand."

Toph is silent for a long time. Finally, she says, "Well, I can't _see_ with either eye, and it doesn't stop me. And besides," she adds, shifting to get more comfortable, "it doesn't take two hands to plunge that dagger in his wretched throat."

The darkness and promise of violence in her voice startles me, but I can't help but think she's right.

* * *

><p>Nikka and Hachi return from the market with fresh vegetables and fruits, freshly caught fish, steamed buns, pounds of jerky meat for the days to come, and two egg custard tarts. Because everyone is still recovering, dinner is a grab-at-your-own-pace affair, a huge pile of steamed buns and freshly diced mango waiting on one of the tables in the main sitting room. I bring Toph a tray and insist she stay in bed. She's too tired to fight me, and despite her raving hunger, I force her to eat small increments at a time.<p>

Jin's sleeping tonic finally wears off, and in her confusion and fear, she flees from her room and locks herself in an overlarge supply closet. The door can easily be broken down, but since there's been no sign of destruction, we give her space. Somehow though, I'd rather hear the sound of smashing glass than the soft crying.

So I head to the kitchen to grab a tray to fill with food.

The sitting room is empty except for Bowen. He's sitting on one of the sofas with his elbows pressed to his thighs, chin resting in his hands, looking deep in thought. He doesn't seem to notice me at all, and I wonder if he's thinking of his mother; or maybe he's thinking of Jin, that need to comfort the wounded stirring inside him. I recognize it because I have the same tendencies.

I clear my throat. "I was going to take Jin a tray of food if you want to join me."

He turns to me, lips slowly parting into a smile. Some of the color has come back into his freshly shaven face. "She might throw a vase at me again."

"Maybe it will just be a broom."

Bowen laughs as he rises, but the thoughts of Jin bring the diary back to my mind. It stays with me as Bowen piles steamed buns onto a silver tray. I don't know why I feel so hesitant to share my theories, but they stay locked inside as we head down the hall.

"Jin," I call through the wood, kneeling to set down the tray, "We brought you something to eat."

Her answer is a soft, muffled sob.

"We're safe here," I say, a little louder.

"I want," she says, her voice choking, "I want to go _home_."

I stare at the door. I don't know what to say to that.

"Me too, Jin," says Bowen, filling in the silence. "But…this has to be our home for a little while." He sits down completely, his back pressed to the wall next to the door. "Have you ever been to a Fire Days festival?"

She sniffs. "No…"

"Really? Well, I'll tell you about if you promise not to throw anything at me."

She laughs, a sound so pure that it makes my cold heart ache. "Okay."

"Okay, good. Did you know they show fireworks that take the shape of dragons? There's a parade with dancers and acrobats. And most of…" his voice trails off, rambling into a tale that I've never heard before. I don't even know if it's true, but eventually I see the door crack open. He doesn't miss a beat, doesn't even react—just continues his story.

I leave them in the hall, somehow feeling trapped. I push open the front doors and walk down the stone path to the beach.

The sun has set, the stars shining brightly in the sky, the moon reflecting on the warm water. I sink into the sand, pulling my knees to my chest, watching the waves calmly crash against the shore. Even in the distance I can hear the sound of celebration from the festival. It's just a cruel reminder of my birthday. In less than a week I'll be seventeen years old. My dad won't be here to cut me a piece of moon cake. Sokka won't be here to barely contain his excitement as I open his present. He was never good with keeping secrets, especially surprises.

"Mind if I join you?" If the voice belonged to anyone else I may have jumped. But I've grown so used to the prince sneaking up on me that I don't even flinch.

"Sure," I say.

Zuko takes a seat in the sand, leaning back on his hands, close enough that our shoulders brush. I almost ask him where he's been since I haven't seen him all evening, but I just stare out over the ocean instead, letting the silence fall.

"Your hair is different," the prince offers, clearing his throat.

"Shorter."

"That's what I meant."

I nod. After keeping it up all day, it now hangs in loose waves around my face.

"It doesn't look bad, if you were wondering."

I huff. "I wasn't, but now that you mention it…"

"I didn't—that's not what I meant." He sighs. "Never mind."

I might have laughed, if not for the thousand thoughts rolling in my mind. Instead I take a deep breath. "There's so many things I want to ask you."

"So ask."

_Will you be honest with me?_

I open my mouth, and then close it. Nothing comes out. Maybe I'm too afraid of the answers to ask the questions.

"A part of me belongs to the Capital," Zuko admits quietly, moonlight sharpening his cheekbones. "It's who I am. They are still my people and I am still their prince. My bloodline and history is plagued by violence and ruthlessness. But I'm trying to make things right, even if I have to stand up to my father. Everything I did…every mask I've worn…it's for a new future. A future you showed me was possible."

I want to believe him—and after everything we've been though, I _do_ believe him. But I can't shake the image of seeing him sail into Thirteen's harbor with a fleet of Capital ships.

"I understand why you turned yourself over to Zhao," I say. _You did it for Thirteen, and for me._ "And I know how this works, how truths have to be mixed into the lies. But how could you betray Thirteen's location? Couldn't you have warned us first?"

"I didn't." I turn to him, wide eyed. He looks as troubled as I feel. "When my father first asked, I told him I didn't know the location since I was unconscious from the explosion when I arrived in Thirteen. And honestly, I'm not even sure I _could_ find it on my own. I have no idea how my father found out. Neither did Uncle or Lu Ten. But when he did, he ordered me to sea that same night. He was probably anticipating a betrayal, so he gave me no time to send warning."

_He was probably anticipating a betrayal_. I don't miss the sadness in his voice. Despite everything, Zuko still seeks some form of acceptance from his father. Even if he's willing to stand up to him, he still wants it. Craves it. If the Fire Lord decides to use this longing as a weapon…Azula had tried in the Games. She failed, but I'm not so sure the Fire Lord would.

I shake my head, forcing myself to focus on the current situation. Someone had betrayed us. For a fleeting moment, when I saw the Capital ships sailing our way, I _had_ considered it was Zuko. But now, I realize it could be anyone.

_The diary. Tell him about the diary._

Before I get a chance, the doors to the house burst open. I whip around to see a short, masked figure striding out onto the balcony.

"Hey, you guys want to go to the festival?" Nikka calls out.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Ah poor Katara. Truthfully, I think if Waterbending healed EVERY injury completely than it would cheapen some of the character development. Scars and injuries are something these characters learn from and are a huge part of their growth. So while Waterbending certainly heals in this fic, it doesn't heal everything, and the degree in which it heals is also equivalent to the bender. Like Pakku can heal better than Katara, for example, because he's a stronger bender.

As always, thank you for reading and taking the time to review. I appreciate every single one. :) I'm very excited about the next chapter. And that's all I'm going to say about that!

**Future stuff:** Be sure to check my profile page for updates on upcoming projects!

Review Responses:

**Tophlet: "****the relationship is there and it just adds more humanity to what's going on. At this point it's not a question to me of how they feel about each other."** - I agree completely. At least, that's how it feels it comes across when I'm writing it. :P I know a lot of people want verbal confirmation, and likely that will eventually happen in this story. But I don't want to force it, and want it to happen when it feels natural. You know?

**"I don't know if that makes sense to you so let me just take a leaf from Shang's book to say: you write good.**" - HAHAHA well thank you!

**Douda: "****I must admit that when I first started reading, I groaned at the first person point of view, until I realized that that was meant to mirror Suzanne Collins' writing of Katniss, and until I read further and discovered how amazingly you mastered the first person perspective and still managed to get a sufficient and broad narrative in."** - Thank you! I used to hate first person, but lately almost all the books I've been reading are first so I've gotten used to it. :P But I was very hesitant to write in first, so I'm glad you like it!

**EbunnyLove: "****I admire how you've stuck with this story. My own fanfic has been on standby now for months but every time I reread any of your Black Games trilogy I gain my motivation back again. You make me want to keep writing."** - Wow, thank you! Truly I think there is a wonderful circle of motivation here. Readers motivate writers to keep writing, writers motivate readers to write, etc. I can honestly say that you all motivate me every day to continue and I wouldn't enjoy this journey so much without all of you. I'm so happy to be a motivation for you! I hope you continue! :)

**"****Will Katara ever find out when Zuko's birthday is/was?"** - Yes, actually. I think it might even come up in chapter 17? Maybe. :P

**"will Zuko and Katara ever come out and tell each other they love one another using words?**** "** - They will eventually have a scene where they're able to talk about their feelings. I can't say how it will happen or when, as I don't want to plan that out but rather let it happen on it's own. There really just hasn't been much time for that sort of thing lol.

**BelleCherie: "****I really did try to pay attention to the rest of the chapter but all I could concentrate on was BOJIN BOJIN BOJIN. Platonic or romantic, I love those two and their interactions are just the best :)"** - Yay! I'm so glad you enjoy their scenes...I do too!

**Pipedream8989: " ****It's almost amusing that Zhao believed Bowen"** - Bowen is also a pretty convincing liar lol

Character Q&A (the next one will be when we reach Chapter 20!)

**For Zuko**

How do you feel about Zhao? - "Zhao...does his job well. But he has no honor, no decency, and is completely untrustworthy."

How did it feel to see Katara in such a weak state after being tortured for information - "It's not the first time I've seen her this way, though it still manages to feel like the first time."

Did you feel any sort of smugness, however tiny and shameful, at seeing katara angry with bowen? - "Not really."

how did it feel to see Katara again? - "A relief."

**For Katara**

Do you think you can stop the Fire Lord's quest for immortality? - "I...I don't know. I hope so."

**For Bowen**

You did what you had to in order for Jet to win but knowing what you do now, would have changed strategy for Jet? - "I might have encouraged him to ally with Suki, had I known how strong a contender she was going to be."

**For Lu Ten**

Why are you so mistrustful of Katara? - "When you're royalty, you learn to mistrust almost everyone."

**For Ursa**

Every time you see Katara, do you think of how she killed Azula? - "It is difficult, to see the monstrous things those children committed, my children included, to survive. I have forgiven Katara, and though there may always be a small part of me that cannot forgive her entirely, the root of my pain and anger is not geared toward her."

Were you surprised by Zuko's betrayal? - "No."

**For Zhao**

You sick son of a bitch, does torturing a girl, a young woman and man, and murdering a defenseless prisoner make you feel powerful when an overwhelming majority view your actions as cowardly, honorless, and psychopathic? - *shrugs* "I don't need to torture someone to feel powerful. I already _am_ powerful."


	17. The Fire Days Festival

**A/N:** Aaaand I finally finished! Enjoy!

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 17 - The Fire Days Festival<strong>

It's tradition, the prince says, to wear costumes or masks to the festival—the main reason we're able to attend. So here I stand, in front of a floor length mirror, turning this way and that, tugging my robes and examining my reflection.

My hair falls in loose waves at my shoulders. I'm wearing a long crimson skirt, with a short matching top that reveals my stomach. A long burgundy cloak drapes around my shoulders, clasping at my collar bone. Gold bangles are wrapped around my arms, and on top of my head is a wide hat, with sheer fabric draping around my face. My entire body is covered with white makeup paint; red stripes line my arms and swirl along my cheeks and face. My lips are a deep red, my eyes painted with dark rouge.

Nikka is painted like me, her skin also white with whorls of gold paint swirling over her arms. She wears no hat, but in place is a simple gold headpiece. In another life, she could have been an artist for the Capital with the way she transformed me into what she says is the Painted Lady. The thought makes me miss my old artists—Nina and the others. June, most of all.

I shake my head, trying to remind myself tonight is supposed to be fun.

I sigh. I don't remember the last time I did anything for _fun_. It seems almost ridiculous to be doing something that a normal sixteen year old might do.

I take a deep breath and close my eyes. I'm a survivor and a Victor. I won't be intimidated by a _festival_, even if I feel a little silly dressed like this. Part of me had wanted to stay home, wrap myself in blankets and spend the night in bed. But Bowen had begged and begged in such a way that was reminiscent of Sokka. So here I am.

A soft knock at my door jars me from my thoughts. "Come in," I say.

To my surprise, I see Piandao through the reflection as he steps inside. I turn to him, raising a brow he probably can't see under my hat.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Katara, but I was hoping you had a moment."

"Of course." I take off my hat and shake my hair a little loose. "What is it?"

"I know you have suffered a great injury," he starts gravely. "I am not a bender myself, so I will not pretend to comprehend your loss. But I am considered a Master Swordsman in my province. Should you desire to train with a blade, I am at your service."

I blink at him. "Thank you," I say with a little surprise. "I would appreciate that very much." He offers a smile and small bow, and is halfway out the room when curiosity takes over and I blurt out, "Did you and Bowen work together in the past?"

His shoulders seem to tense, then sag. He turns around, his eyes soft with sorrow. "No, we did not."

"Then why is he—" I stare at Piandao. At the sharpness of his jaw, the shape of his eyes, the fullness of his lips, the familiarity of him that I could never quite place.

Until now.

* * *

><p>I don't get a chance to talk to Bowen. Since he's exceptionally stealthy, he's off to Two's courier office to deliver a letter Zuko wrote to Iroh. Dressed in their costumes, Nikka and Leo go with him, if only to tail him and keep an eye out. They promise to meet us at clock tower at the festival, one hour from now.<p>

We agree going in small groups to the festival will draw less attention than arriving together, so Zuko, Jin and I will be leaving next. Toph is still too weak to go with us, but Piandao promises to keep an eye on her while we're gone. Jeong Jeong, unsurprisingly, shares no interest in attending the festival. I think he's still a little weak himself, though he'd never admit it.

While I'm dressed as the Painted Lady, Zuko wears dark pants and a long-sleeve top, with matching gloves and a frightening blue and white mask, complete with sharp teeth—the Blue Spirit, he says, another Fire province legend. Nikka and Leo did the shopping again, purchasing outfits and masks for us to wear tonight. Zuko was able to crack into the Fire Lord's small safe, so at least we don't have to resort to stealing yet. Even though it's not my money, it still feels selfish to indulge in such superfluous spending.

But the prince doesn't seem to mind. Then again, he never had to barter for a bar of soap or hot water a day in his life.

After I check on a sleeping Toph one last time, the three of us are out the door and on our way down the winding path to the festival. Jin keeps her arm looped through mine as we go, shaking a little, but still not running back to the estate. Bowen must have woven an elaborate tale to get her out here. New situations always make her nervous and frightened. But she's here now, taking another small step outside her shell. I'm proud of her, and that pride helps me walk a little higher, too.

It's quite a walk into the heart of Two from the Fire Lord's estate, but not unpleasant, even if mostly in silence. The sea breeze smells of salt and ruffles the sheer material around my face. The cliffs are dotted with rocks and trees, the beach loitered with people laughing beneath glowing torches and fires. Every home I see is huge, red tiled and gold rimmed, with a few pagodas speckling the beach. Of all the Fire provinces I've seen, this one is the most serene and peaceful.

The music reaches us first, upbeat and festive, carrying and echoing along the sandy roads. We finally step through the main gate—two Guards standing there, not even bothering to question us—and I'm hit with a wave of smells and the merry music of fiddles and drums. The large square of Two is bursting with children laughing and masked citizens enjoying the festivities. Large, colorful kites fly overhead and Capital flags wave in the breeze. There are tons of booths filled with games and food, some vendors also selling trinkets and jewelry and dolls—one even sells masks, where Nikka no doubt purchased ours. Jugglers and dancers flutter around the square, wearing bright costumes and shiny masks. Ribbons of silk hang from tall lampposts, and a magic show dominates the main stage.

I can't help but stare at the entire spectacle in awe. It's like a whole new world inside these gates. We never had anything like this at home. Sokka would have loved it—especially the vendors selling fire-roasted meats. There are Guards stationed all around the square and up in the balconies of the buildings, but I hardly notice, too caught up in the sounds and smells and sights.

There's a big crowd surrounding the stage, the Firebender on stage performing an elaborate display of fire that seems to take on the shape of a phoenix. Jin seems to pull me toward a loud, cheerful commotion by one of the nearby gaming booths. We push our way to the front, just as the vendor steps onto a stool and raises his hands to quiet the crowd.

"Do I have a new challenger?" he calls out. "Come on now, I do lose _sometimes_." Behind him, about twenty some feet back, are five circular targets, each with a dagger planted into the very center—the bullseye.

The man holds out a dagger of his own, blade first, and points to a young child in the crowd. "How about you, little one?" The child looks eager, but who I assume to be his mother yanks him back, shaking her head and laughing.

"No?" The man—mask-less, like the other vendors—scans the crowd again and then settles on Jin. "What about you, then?"

She practically squeaks and tries to tug out of my grasp, but I'm too afraid she'll run off and cause a scene, so I hold tight. "No, thank you," I answer for her.

The man laughs and leaps down from his stool, holding his dagger hilt first at Jin. "Oh, don't be shy. Come on, lady."

I'm about to just walk away when suddenly Jin reaches out and takes hold of the dagger, her hand trembling. The crowd surrounding us claps and cheers. I feel Zuko shift behind me, feel his anxiousness as Jin pulls her other arm from mine to examine to blade. She glances up at the smiling man, drops back to the blade, then to him again.

For a fleeting, horrifying moment, I fear for the man's life, but the man says, "If you can beat me on three of the five targets, you can choose a small prize. If you beat me by four or five, you can choose a big prize." The vendor is a tall, gruffy looking man, with a practiced smile and charm. He probably guesses who in the crowd he thinks will be an easy opponent.

I start to say her name, to try to talk her into putting the blade down, but realize at the last second that I can't use her name. In my hesitation, the vendor has set the daggers on the table and moves outside the booth to stand next to us. He flashes another smile and lines up in front of the first target. Then he picks up one of the daggers and throws.

His throw is a little high, a few inches above the bullseye. Then he moves to the second target, lets it fly, and nails the bullseye. The crowd cheers. After all five are thrown, he ends up with three perfect throws, and two that are fairly close. It's clear he's no soldier, but he's certainly practiced this game many times.

I look at the cheering children surrounding us and frown. Even though these aren't the sharpest I've ever seen, even target practice daggers are not toys. They're weapons, not objects in a game.

For a half second, I debate just grabbing Jin and running. I have no idea what she'll do with a weapon her hands. Maybe she'll throw it at the target. Maybe she'll ledge it in the man's throat.

"Your turn, lady," says the vendor. "Five silver coins, and you may begin."

Jin glances up. "What?"

"Five silver coins—a coin for each target."

Relief washes over me as Jin tilts her head, confused. "I…I didn't…"

"We didn't bring any money, I'm afraid," I say, stepping forward. The crowd starts to boo, disappointed. And that's when Jin seems to snap out of the trance the dagger held over her. Her head whips around at the loudness of the crowd, panic overtaking her senses. I try to move closer to her, but she whips around, still holding the dagger, and I leap back.

Her arm goes up—I feel Zuko moving past me to stop her—but as Jin's arm comes down, another snatches her wrist so fluently that one second she's about to slash at the air and the next the dagger is in a new set of hands.

"Allow me," says the newcomer, the voice smooth and startling as I recognize it. Bowen tosses five silver coins onto the table.

Zuko and I share a glance. I reach out and grip Bowen's elbow tightly, as if to send my message: _Don't you dare throw five perfect shots and draw attention to us._

"Kind of you to pay the lady's way," says the vendor. "Go ahead, little lady."

"No," says Bowen, shifting so that Jin is behind him. "I'll play for my friend here."

"I'm afraid that's not allowed, sir."

"Really?" Bowen crosses his arms. "Do you want a challenger, or is it that you only accept a challenger of your choice, _sir_?"

"Step on up then," the vendor says, his voice colder. The crowd stirs with excitement, giving me the impression this vendor hasn't, in fact, lost much.

Bowen laughs a little as he twirls the dagger in his hands. He glances down at Jin and says, "Small prize, or big prize?"

Jin hesitates, and then nervously shifts her gaze to the prizes lining the sides of the booth. On the left wall are small dolls and stuffed animals—on the right, larger stuffed animals and vases filled with bright red flowers.

"I like those," she says quietly, pointing toward the flowers.

Bowen nods and without much warning, brings his arm down and throws the dagger at the first target. Not a bullseye, but closer than the vendor's. The crowd claps and hollers as Bowen moves to the second target, Jin trailing nervously behind. Bowen picks up the dagger, twirls it around once and throws. A perfect bullseye.

The vendor looks impressed, and a little surprised. Bowen moves on, and throws the third dagger. Another perfect shot. Zuko and I exchange looks again. But Bowen just goes to the fourth target and barely glances at it as he throws. Bullseye.

The crowd is roaring with excitement now, the vendor frowning and looking a little put out. Bowen approaches the last target and lifts the dagger. He extends it out to Jin, but she just shakes her head profusely. He shrugs once, then throws with such force that his dagger literally splits the vendor's in half as it lands in the center. The vendor's dagger breaks and falls to the ground, leaving only Bowen's on the target.

Jin claps her hands with the crowd, but I'm already moving away, shaking my head at his arrogance. He just couldn't resist the urge, could he? At least Jin is smiling and calmed down. Hopefully Bowen will be smart enough to swap his mask for another, just to be safe. I keep moving. I already know Zuko is behind me, probably sharing similar thoughts, as I approach the food vendors lining the western side of the square.

"Step on up and get your flaming fire flakes!" one man calls.

"Hot roast duck! Spicy komodo sausage!" says another.

"Sweet tart pies, this way!"

"Smoked sea slug—the best in the province!"

Overwhelmed with the variety, I find myself walking past each and every one, enjoying the eclectic cuisine so different than my own. As I lean over a smoking pot of soup, Zuko bends down toward me and says, "Do you want to try something?"

"Like what?"

"Anything."

_Anything_. The word echoes in my mind. I've never been able to have _anything_ before. Not even when I won the Games. Anything...it's a dangerous word. I almost feel a wave of resentment toward the prince, but I shove it down.

I finally stop in front of one of the roasted meat vendors. The man behind the booth smiles broadly at me. One of his front teeth is missing, and his goatee is frayed with age. "What can I get you?" he asks pleasantly. Would he be so pleasant if he knew who I was?

"I'll have some komodo sausage," I say. _For Sokka_.

The man slides chunks of meat onto a thick, hand-held stick and hands it to me, the sausages still sizzling and hot. Zuko hands over some silver coins and the man bows graciously. I have to wave the meat around to cool it before I'm able to take a bite. Immediately, my mouth bursts of fire and I splutter, grease dripping down my lips. "It's hot!"

Zuko laughs. "The sign did say it was spicy."

"No kidding." Still, the spices bring out the flavor, and the meat is incredibly tender. It's delicious.

We walk away from the food vendors and weave through the crowd, stopping before an elaborate fountain. It is square shaped, with a huge stone man in the center, a torch lit in each of his palms, both of which are facing the sky. There are mountains of coins floating at the bottom—even some gold. The fact that no one is bothering to jump in and take them just fuels my resentment of the Fire provinces. This fountain would be emptied if it were in Nine. Not because we're savages, but because we're so much more poor.

Zuko seems to notice my gaze. "Offerings to Agni," he says. "Some say if you give an offering, Agni will grant you a wish."

I snort.

"I take it you don't have legends in Nine?" the prince asks, his voice stiff with irritation.

"Any legends we had were burned by your people."

I walk away from the fountain, hearing Zuko let out a sound somewhere between a sigh and a snarl. As I weave through the crowd, I watch more performers: men swallowing large swords, women dancing in thin fabrics and golden jewelry. A woman shows off her pair of firehawks as they perform tricks. Citizens of Two clap and cheer on the performers, oblivious to the Fire Lord's conquer of Nine—of our planning of rebellion.

Zuko buys a small box of flaming fire flakes. He pours a handful of flakes into his hand and then passes me the box. "They're hot," he warns.

I roll my eyes before pouring a small amount into my hand. Then I tip my head back and plop them into my mouth. Just like he said, they're hot—_extremely_ hot—and crunchy. It's like crunching on bits of ash.

The prince watches me, waiting for a reaction. As I try to remain emotionless, it becomes too much and I can't help the spluttering that escapes me. Zuko starts to laugh and I find myself laughing, too. He tips his mask up slightly to dump the flakes in his mouth.

"What is this festival for, anyway?" I ask, finally finding my voice.

"The Fire Days celebrates our culture during the month of the dragon each year," says Zuko. "It's a traveling festival that lasts a week in each of the Fire provinces."

We don't have festivals to celebrate our culture, but even as limited as ours is now, we still have something. We have our jewelry, our clothing, some of our rituals. We even have a chief and princess, as useless as a title they may be. I find myself wondering why Sozin didn't eliminate our culture completely. Why he didn't insist on the rest of the world adopting his. Perhaps he was just too selfish and didn't find us worthy. Or maybe he wanted us to keep just a shred of our culture. Maybe that's worse than having it eliminated entirely, to have just enough to grasp at straws but never more than that.

"So," I say, turning to the prince. "Tell me about this Painted Lady."

"Legend says she was from a fishing village in Five and had extraordinary healing abilities."

"Not much of a comparison there," I grumble. "I'm not even a good healer."

Zuko tilts his head slightly, regarding me from behind that eerie mask. "I'd say bringing someone back from the dead surpasses extraordinary."

_That wasn't me. It was the water, or maybe it was the spirits. Either way, it wasn't me._

I just shake my head and dump more flakes into my mouth. Crunching and chewing the fiery bits, my gaze is drawn to a couple walking this way as they feed each other candies and laugh together.

It occurs to me all of the sudden that Zuko very well could have had a girlfriend or at least someone he was very close to before entering the Games. Maybe even a betrothal, waiting for when he comes home for good. The thought leaves me cold and slightly bitter, like I've just swallowed a bad batch of Sokka's sea prunes.

I want to ask, but I can't quite formulate the question. It feels foreign enough in my mind, let alone on my tongue. So I just force more flakes down my throat, even as they burn all the way. There's a section of tents nearby, with a sign that reads "cultural center." Not wanting to dive down that depressing hole, I finish off the fire flakes and toss the empty box into a barrel.

I watch as an elderly woman tells a group of children a story from a picture book. I hear "Day of Black Sun" and immediately look away. This festival is meant to celebrate the culture of the Fire provinces, as well as their conquests.

There's a sudden _boom_ that makes me jump. Almost immediately I start to panic, when I catch the brightness in the sky, the sparks flying—fireworks. Red, gold, green, blue—all the colors light the sky as the ground shakes with each blast. My ears start to ring from the sound, the echo so familiar to the cannons in the arena.

_It's so, so loud._

I'm frozen where I am, suspended without breath, when suddenly I feel a hand gently pulling me away. Almost in a trance, I let Zuko pull me through the crowded square, until we stop at the clock tower. It takes me a second to realize that even though the crowd still cheers, the fireworks have stopped, and so has the echoing in my ears. Just a small display, then. A preview for the finale at the end of the night.

Craning my head back to look at the time, I frown. "It's not the hour yet."

"I know. Hurry up before a Guard notices us."

The square is crowded enough that no one seems to notice the prince as he bends down and fumbles with a loose stone square. Then he slides it open and hops inside. Alarmed, I look around quickly, but everyone's attention seems to be on the last bit of fireworks and the magic show nearby.

"Come on!" Zuko hisses from below.

I bend down and see the prince's hand. _What is he doing?_ It's not a far drop. I reach down and grab his hands as I slide inside the hole, landing with a soft thud. Zuko lets go to slide the stone square back into place. Darkness instantly surrounds us.

"What are we doing?" I ask.

But the prince just grabs my hand and tugs me along, lighting fire in his other to light the way. Even underground I can still hear the festivities above, the trampling of excited feet and music, laughter and cheer. The corridors are cold, damp stone, with abandoned torches along the walls. We don't have to travel but a few feet before we run into a set of stone stairs. At the top is a wooden door that Zuko shoves open. Birds scatter from the drafty tower and when I glance up, moonlight shines down from above. Wooden beams and stairs spiral high past clockwork mechanisms.

I follow Zuko up the stairs, holding up my robe so it doesn't trip me. It's a high climb and by the time we reach the top, I'm slightly out of breath. But then I see the huge, backward face of the clock, and find myself crossing the makeshift bride over to it. The spaces between the hours are large enough to offer a perfect window to the bustling province below and the clicking of chains and mechanisms is soothing.

I feel Zuko walk up beside me, and then he sits down so that his feet dangle over the edge of the landing. I take his lead and sit beside him, sitting on my hands. "How…?"

"Before…before my mother left, they used to bring us here every summer," he says. "They were busy most of the time, but when they weren't, they took us to the beach or the theater. When they were, Azula and I would find ways to escape our nanny's. She found this stone that lead to the clock tower. We'd hide out here." He gives a light, humorless laugh. "She'd pretend this was her castle, and the people of Two were her peasants she ruled over."

I smile fondly, imagining a young prince and princess running through the streets and playing in this drafty, cold tower. I imagine a mother and father taking their children to the beach, playing in the water and building sand castles.

My chest starts to ache and my smile fades as I remember my final moments in the Games. I can tell by the way Zuko is talking that he hasn't been in this tower in years. Maybe he never came here with anyone else but Azula. _It's like the Poles_, I think, remembering the special place that only Sokka and I shared.

Zuko sighs—a sad, damaged sort of sound. "I always liked the view. To see the city below and the ocean that went on forever."

I look forward, staring past the tall red roofs to the ocean beyond, the moon gleaming white against the waves. A beauty to withhold to Two; a set of iron bars to Nine. Still, I can't say he's entirely wrong.

"Do you think you would have done it," I say quietly, "if it was just the two of you left?"

I don't have to say anything else for Zuko to understand my question. "I don't know," he breathes. "Maybe that's why…why I can't resent you for what you did."

_Because then you didn't have to make that choice._

"I wouldn't blame you if you did," I say. "Zuko I…I hate myself for the things I did in the arena. If there was any other way I would have taken it."

"I know," he says thickly.

I take a shuddering breath, focusing on the dancing flames on the stage below. "Sokka would have loved this—this festival. He loved people, and he loved games. And food. _Especially_ he'd love the food."

"You two were very close, weren't you?" He says it like it's a curious thing, like he doesn't quite understand it.

"Yes." My eyes are suddenly heavy. "He could be an idiot sometimes, but he was my best friend. He was smart, you know? He always had a plan, a way to fix something. And everyone loved him. Even the Guards."

"Azula and I…we weren't always so…" I feel him shrug. "She was always a little cruel, but we were friends, once." He lets out a dry laugh. "Is it weird that even though she would have killed me, I miss her?"

I glance at him and wish I can see his face. But behind that blue and white mask, he just stares straight ahead. "No," I whisper. "I don't think it's weird at all."

He just nods, as if seeking some sort of approval.

We sit in silence for a while, lost in our own losses and pain. At some point my head finds his shoulder, and he doesn't do anything but let me rest against him as I stare out at the endless ocean and watch the lively crowd below. When the clock sounds for the hour, vibrating within the tower, Zuko helps me to my feet so we can meet the others. But before we go, we watch another bout of fireworks, these more brilliant than the last, the colors showering magnificently below. This time, somehow, I don't feel as rigid. Maybe it's being away from the crowd, maybe it's the warmth of Zuko's chest against my back, maybe it's the height or something else.

Whatever it is, I welcome it.

It isn't until we're back in the tunnels that I realize by taking me to his tower, Zuko—whether he did it on purpose or not—had helped me breathe again.

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><p><strong>AN:** Thank you for reading! There was ah, another Zutara moment I wanted to be in this chapter, but it didn't quite make it in. Next one however...;) As always, I appreciate your feedback and taking the time to stick with me in this story, even when updates are on the slower side. Review responses to come!


	18. Attachment

**A/N:** First of all, Merry Christmas my lovely readers! Secondly, this chapter is a little shorter than usual, mostly because I needed to cut it off right where I did. I'm so sorry for the long wait; things have been very busy on the wedding planning side. :P I hope you enjoy it, and have a lovely holiday!

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><p><strong>Chapter 18 - Attachment<strong>

Zuko says there's another entrance to the tunnel, one that leads to the cellars of the library. He thinks it'll be safer to exit through there rather than pop up in the middle of the square by the tower. Thankfully, the library is empty when we climb out the cellars and step into the main room. It's a single story building with dozens of oak shelves lined with books, the middle of the room dotted with desks and comfortable looking chairs. Zuko moves quietly across the wood floor when I reach out and grasp him by the wrist, stopping him. The books only remind me of something, something I really need to tell him.

"What?" he asks. "We have to be at the clock tower."

"I know, but…" I swallow hard. "I need to tell you something. Now, before we meet up with the others."

"What is it?"

I glance around just to double check we're actually alone. Then I bring my voice down, as another precaution. "I found a diary that belonged to Jin's father, Professor Zei," I say. "It was full of research on the spirits and the Spirit World. I think Zei believed your father wanted to steal a spirit's immortality. That's why he invaded Nine, to search for Tui and La."

Zuko just stares at me from behind his mask. "That's impossible," he says finally.

"Is it? You _died_ and came back. How do we know what's possible or not?"

The prince shakes his head. "You're—"

"I'm not the only one who thinks it possible," I cut in. "Your mother has the diary."

I can practically hear the flex of his jaw and his frustration seeps out in his voice as he says, "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"I…with my injury, and having to heal the others, I didn't even think about it. Then when I did I couldn't find the right time…"

He reaches up to tug at his mask but thinks better of it, his gloved hand dropping. "Let's just find the others."

I can tell by his tone he doesn't really want to talk about this. Doesn't want it to be true. So I just nod and follow him out the library, where we slip silently into a dark alley before reemerging into the busy crowd.

As we head to the clock tower, weaving through the mass of people dressed in their costumes, my eye catches on a large board pinned with brightly colored flyers. Mostly there are province announcements, for sale signs, and advertisements, but I take a double glance at the largest flyer in the middle. It's an invitational announcement from the Capital for 'the Annual Fire Days Ball.'

A ball? I don't even know what to think about that as I hurry to catch up to Zuko before I lose him in the crowd. I want to ask him about it, but the stiffness in his shoulders holds my tongue.

The others are waiting under the clock tower, just as planned. Because of the masks and costumes, it takes me a second to recognize them. Bowen is barely able to mutter a greeting when Zuko snarls, "Let's go" and barrels past him.

Jin looks around nervously, a fist clenching around the stems of her prized flowers.

"What'd you do?" Bowen says to me.

"Why are you assuming it's something _I_ did?" I ask incredulously.

"Intuition." I can practically hear him smiling. "Am I wrong?"

I ignore him as we follow Zuko out of the crowd just as the fireworks start up again. The _booming_ makes me cringe, but I soldier on and keep my eyes locked on Zuko's tense back. The crowd _oohh's _and _aahh's, _clearly impressed with the display. A golden dragon lights up the sky and I almost turn around to show Jin. But Zuko is still moving forward as though nothing in the world will stop him, so I just sigh and continue on, hoping she gets to see it.

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><p>The dining room is quickly transformed into our make-shift command room. The long oak table is covered in parchment and ink, small maps Zuko found in his father's study, and other documents that might be useful. Leo and Nikka are assigned to stand watch. Zuko decides since they aren't technically part of the Order, it's best to keep this information amongst the few of us. Toph is sound asleep and Jin nearly fell asleep on the walk home. Not that Jin would be in here anyway. Which is a good thing, since I'm not sure how she'd handle talking about her father or the diary I took from her.<p>

So now it's just me, the prince, Bowen, Jeong Jeong, and Piandao. Once we're settled, Zuko wastes no time in sharing my information. A sort of stunned silence follows, and it's Jeong Jeong that reacts first. "You're basing this theory on a diary?" he asks skeptically, aiming the question at me.

"Yes, but—"

"A diary," he repeats, sounding doubtful. The scar slashing down his right eye looks even uglier as he continues to glower at me.

"It was very thorough," I say defensively. "There were _pages_ on the spirits. Geography of the Spirit World, and on the Spirit Oasis. Not to mention Zei said the Fire Lord believes endlessness can be _stolen_. What else would that mean?"

"Maybe he's going to literally steal a spirit?" Bowen offers.

"And do what?" I rally back. "Keep it as a pet?"

"Well…"

"I'm almost positive he found the moon spirit and destroyed it," I say. "That's why Waterbenders lost their bending. Maybe he thought by destroying the moon spirit he'd inherit it's immortality."

"And yet the moon is back now," says Piandao.

I don't have an answer for that, so I say nothing. Zuko hasn't said much since he shared my information, mostly just listened with an elbow on the table, his mouth pressed to his knuckles. I keep waiting for him to inject his opinion, but I think he's still too stunned to believe any of it.

"What does the girl know?" Jeong Jeong asks, gesturing to the door with his chin.

Jin, he means. "Not much, I don't think," I say. "She doesn't like talking about him."

"She will need to be questioned."

"No one is to question her," I say sternly, glancing around the table. "Leave that to me or Bowen."

Bowen offers me a pitying smile, one with no teeth that tells me he doesn't quite have as much faith in my words as I do. _But she trusts you now, too_, I want to tell him.

"Did the professor suspect the Spirit Oasis's location?" asks Piandao.

Dread builds in my throat, choking me. "Not exactly," I say thickly. "Zei thought it was in the south."

"Then how'd the Fire Lord—" Realization dawns on Piandao's face and he lets his words drop.

I force myself to confirm it. "Because I brought the water with me and I've never been anywhere but in Nine." I don't elaborate. The rest is easy to piece together.

Bowen sits back in his seat and runs a hand over his mouth. His eyes meet mine and I can see guilt there. He had a hand in Zuko's resurrection, too. We all knew the risks, but none of us knew what the Fire Lord had been planning.

_You led him there, _I think miserably. _You led him straight to what he was looking for._

Bowen starts to say something, but Zuko holds up a hand to silence him. The gesture is so similar to that of his father—of someone that commands an entire room with a simple motion—that I find my own breath stilling.

But he's not looking at Bowen, commanding his attention. He's looking at me.

"It's not your fault," he says, so intently it's as though we are the only two people in the room.

"It is," I say quietly.

"He would have figured out the location eventually."

"Maybe, maybe not."

"This is a lot to speculate over a diary," says Piandao, leaning forward on the table.

It's more than that, I want to say, suddenly feeling as though I may faint. Zuko's voice fades away and the scene floods back immediately: me, standing in the throne room practically trembling in fear. Zhao hounding me, wanting to see me imprisoned at the Boiling Rock. The Fire Lord, with his wall of fire dancing behind him, the necklace dangling from his hand. I told him I stole the necklace from the chief's daughter, and General Iroh shared his theory that the water was the tears of Tui and La. Between the two of us, we unintentionally gave the Fire Lord everything he's been searching for. And who had a way to get it.

_The chief's daughter._ Yue and her family were no doubt tortured for the location of the Spirit Oasis. I could have said I stole it from anyone, from anywhere in Nine. And yet my team agreed truths were necessary. Why that truth? Why didn't I just lie?

_Because you're good at getting people hurt. All around you people die, and yet here you are, still alive. What good are you if you cannot protect those that need it most?_

I feel a nudge under the table, a foot hitting mine. It forces me back to the conversation at hand between Piandao and Zuko. I blink repeatedly, pushing the hateful voice in my head away. It takes me a moment to realize it was Bowen as he gives me a questioning look, noticing my unease. I just shake my head, wondering how long I drifted away.

Piandao finishes saying something that I don't quite make out.

"Despite my father never expressing interest in spirits, it makes sense," Zuko admits reluctantly. "Nine's evacuation, Waterbender's losing their bending, the moon's absence, the Spirit Oasis, the diary."

"It is still only speculation," says Piandao.

"There may be a way to know for sure," says Zuko, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"What is that?"

"My father trusts no one but himself. Zei's words sound like what you suggest—simply speculation. But if there were definite plans, my father would document his theories. And if he did, we'd need access to the Dragonbone Catacombs."

Bowen rubs his eyes tiredly. "And why is that?"

"Because that's where he keeps a study filled with his classified information. I know his writing and could verify what belongs to him."

"I've never heard of these catacombs." Bowen looks genuinely surprised, and possibly a little offended.

"Something you don't know?" Zuko almost sounds smug. "That's a first."

Bowen's mouth twists into the semblance of a smirk. "So where are they located, if not under the palace?"

It's Jeong Jeong that answers. "Under the Fire Sages Capital Temple." He sounds as grave as Zuko looks, and it's only when the prince speaks that I understand why.

"It's where previous Fire Lords are laid to rest," he says.

"It's a tomb?" I ask, my mouth dropping open.

Zuko nods once. "A tomb protected by the Sages and dozens of Guards. The doors require Firebenders to open them."

"I assume the front entrance to the temple is heavily guarded," I say.

"Yes."

I pause, thinking a moment. "Are there any other entrances?"

"There's an underground passageway that leads from the palace to the temple, but we'd have to infiltrate the palace and that's just as protected."

"I'm not shaving my head again," says Bowen, casting a dark look around the table. Jeong Jeong just scoffs.

I stifle down a sigh. More Guards to fool. More masks to—

Wait a moment.

"You may not have to," I murmur. He shoots me a curious look, but I turn to Zuko. "I saw a poster for the Fire Days Ball at the festival. Does the tradition of wearing masks still apply to the ball?"

"Yes…" he says slowly. Then his eyes widen, catching on to my idea.

"If we can get into the ball, we can get into the passageway."

"There is no _we_," says Zuko, glaring at me. "Even if—"

"If you are involved, there will always be a _we_." Whether I mean _we_ as in him and me, or _we_ as in us as a group, I don't really know. But I look away from his intense gaze to address the rest of the table. "We can't leave this location yet until the Warden says so." Even though they aren't in the room, Leo and Nikka don't know her true name, a secret I intend to keep for a precaution. "We need to know for sure if this is the Fire Lord's plan. This may be our only chance."

"When is the ball?" asks Bowen.

"Two weeks," says Zuko reluctantly. "It will be the last night of the festival."

"Then we better start preparing," says Piandao. He gets to his feet. "I'll make some tea."

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><p>I open the door and step into the room, slamming it shut behind me. Toph jolts awake and nearly jumps from her bed; Jin, too, wakes with a start and yanks the covers to her chest.<p>

"Wa's going on?" Toph slurs.

"It's just me," I say, fuming. I start to pace the room, fists clenched on my waist.

"Katara?" Toph rubs her eyes. Her raven hair, usually tight in a bun, sticks in all sorts of direction. "Are you _crazy?_ What time is it?"

"I'm sorry," I say finally, taking in Jin's wild, startled expression and Toph's anger. Maybe I am crazy. _Crazy and furious_. My own anger quickly diminishes my guilt as I fling a hand toward the door and say, "He kicked me out!"

"_Who?_"

"Zuko! He just ordered me out from the meeting!" I start to pace the room again. "Who does he think he is, to treat me like that? I've—"

"Uh, the future Fire Lord, maybe?" Toph cuts in.

"That's not the point."

"And what is the point—to wake me up in the middle of the night like a crazy person?"

I pause my pacing to glare at her. "You've been sleeping for _hours_. You can't possibly still be tired."

"I'm recovering still."

"You seem fine to me!" I snap.

Toph slumps back into her pillows. "You _are_ in a bad mood."

"Yeah, I am! But it's completely justified. Zuko wants to infiltrate the palace, alone! How can he possibly think that—"

"Wait, hold up." Toph lifts a hand. "Why does he want to infiltrate the palace to begin with? What did I miss?"

I cast a quick glance at Jin. She's just watching our exchange from behind her blankets, silent, her green eyes wide with anxiousness. I sigh, forcing myself to calm down and breathe. "There's some information hidden beneath one of the temples near the palace."

"What kind of information?"

"The life and death kind."

Toph snorts and rolls to one side. "You're all so dramatic."

"I'm serious, Toph. This is a big deal."

"Yeah, yeah."

My hands fly to my hips. "Do you take anything seriously?"

"My sleep," she says with a huff. "Now get out."

"I think you should go," I say, sighing. I'm just so, so tired. And frustrated.

Toph doesn't sit up, but she turns her face toward me slightly. "Me? Why?"

"Because you have experience navigating underground. We have to find the Fire Lord's private study and it's hidden in the Dragonbone Catacombs."

"I thought you said the prince wants to go alone."

"He does. But—"

"What do the others say?"

"They're disagreeing with him, of course. But he didn't see the need to kick any of them out," I say with a growl.

Toph is quiet. I sigh again and look at Jin. "Did you have fun tonight?" I ask her. "At the festival?" It seems so long ago, like we've been planning—and arguing—for days. What time _is_ it, anyway?

She nods. "The lights were so bright…so beautiful."

"Yes, they were." I smile. "I'm glad you got to see them."

"Do you think…" Jin's fingers dig into her sheets, knotting the cloth. "Do you think Bowen could teach me to do that?"

It takes me a second to guess what she means. "To throw a knife?"

She nods again, and I remember the way her eyes lit up with the dagger in her hand. I don't want to get her hopes up, so I say, "You can ask him."

"Okay." She lies back down. "Good night—sleep tight."

"Good night, Jin."

_"Good night_," Toph adds, dismissing me again. This time I laugh and head to the door, when she adds, "I'm in."

Grinning to myself, I debate if I should storm back into the meeting or not. The more I stand in the corridor debating, the more my pride stings and I find myself in my bedroom instead. I undress to my nightclothes and crawl into bed. On my way to my room I noticed the sky lightening from one of the windows, indicating dawn will be here in an hour or two. We must have been up almost all night.

As tired as I am, I don't fall asleep right away. I toss and turn, thinking of too many things all at once. Why is it at night that all the unwanted thoughts come creeping to the surface? I can't stop thinking of my dad, of the others from Thirteen, of the Fire Lord's plans and Yue.

_Yue_. That water saved Zuko's life, and it might have cost hers. Did she know the risk of that water when she gave it to me?

My door creaks open. I keep my back to it as I hear someone enter. I know those near silent steps too well to bother turning over.

"I know you're angry with me," says Zuko, his voice unnaturally quiet.

"Then why bother coming in here?"

He sighs. "Because I don't want you to be."

"Yeah, well." I shrug under the covers. "You should have thought of that before you threw me out."

"You were being unreasonable, Katara. Not to mention disruptive."

"Disruptive?" This time I do face him, sitting up abruptly and causing my covers to fall to my lap.

"Yes," he hisses. "Disruptive. How am I supposed to conduct a meeting with order when I have you practically screaming at me?"

I stare at him. "You aren't Fire Lord yet, _Your Highness_. And I didn't realize this was some high and mighty meeting taking place in _your beach home_. So sorry that I was _disruptive_ by pointing out the flaws and stupidity in your plan."

He all but snarls, "If you're ever going to—" but then stops himself with a clench of his fists at his side.

"If I'm going to what?"

"Never mind."

I look away from him. Maybe he's partially right. I did sort of start screaming and lose my temper. I may have flipped my chair back, too. Not exactly behavior the Warden would have allowed, either. But he needed to see how ridiculous his plan is!

"Zuko." I close my eyes, exhausted, suddenly, to my bones. "I'm sorry, but you can't possibly think I'm going to sit here while you go there alone. None of the Order will, least of all me."

"Like you expected me to do?" he asks, crossing his arms over his chest. His golden eyes shine with fury as he moves closer. "When you expected me to leave you behind at the Boiling Rock?"

The words _that was different_ and _I had a good reason_ are on the tip of my tongue, but never make it further than that. When I look past my blind fury, I understand his point of view. I understand wanting to go alone, and not wanting to risk more lives than your own.

"Look," he says, pinching the bridge of his nose, "I didn't come here to argue with you. I know I can't go alone, but you can't blame me for trying. This is a stealth mission, one that requires low numbers."

I agree with that. In and out, quick and quiet. The less people we need, the better.

Zuko takes another deep breathe. "I don't want to risk your life any more than you want to risk mine, but there's no one else I'd rather have by my side than you."

My heart feels like it's hammering in my ears. "You want me to come with you?"

He nods once, not taking his eyes off mine.

"And the others?" I ask.

"Will do as I command."

His words remind me exactly who he is, who he will become. The reason it was so easy for me to blow up at him in the meeting was because sometimes…I don't see his title and what it means. I just see Zuko, the boy who was just a tribute in the Games like myself, where titles had no value or meaning.

"Well," I say, clearing my throat as I lie back down, turning away from him, "I'm glad you finally saw some sense." A few seconds later I hear him shrugging off his robes and climbing into bed. I stiffen slightly. "What are you doing?"

"Going to sleep."

"In here?"

He pauses. "Do you want me to leave?"

"No." The word escapes me automatically, before I can think of a better response. Cringing at my idiocy, I add, "What's the plan for the ball?"

"Tomorrow." Only now do I hear how sleepy he sounds.

He settles next to me, pulling the sheets up, his body impossibly warm. I know I should tell him he can sleep somewhere else, but…I want him here. Ever since the Games, I've always wanted him here. It's an attachment I know I'll need to break, but for now, I let myself hang on to it.

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><p><strong>AN:** Yay for upcoming Zutara Reconnaissance time! :P As always, thank you for reading. Review responses to come!

Review Responses:

**Silver water: "By the way I LOVED the Bowens father reference in there."** - I'm glad you liked it! Truly I've been waiting forever to reveal it. :D

**Amonymous: "I loooooove this story so much! Are you going to finish it?"** - Definitely! Between life and computer issues, I haven't been able to write as much as I'd like. So the updates may be on the slower side, but I will 100% finish this. I already have an ending in mind. :D

**crosscountrychick13: "I usually don't care for OCs but yours are believable and well written"** - Thank you! I'm picky on OC's myself so I take this as a high compliment! :)

**Millyhedge: "Do consider publishing your own work one day?"** - Most definitely! I'd love to write my own book someday. I have several ideas that I've been playing with and trying to write. It's very hard, turns out, haha. But someday, yes, I do hope to publish.

**The Adamant Daughter: "I am a little confused by Zuko's motivations to help the Capital raid 13. Was he forced to go by Ozai?"** - Yes, Ozai basically sprung it on him and gave the order that he and Lu Ten were to invade.

**Elen Di: "And the Zutara... Anything I ever read again will pale in comparison to what you have done here"** - Wow, thank you! I really wanted their relationship to be so much more than a typical romance. So I'm glad you're enjoying my portrayal. :)

**Georgia: "Will we ever find out how kataras mother died or will it just be the same as in the avatar series?"** - She died in childbirth. Which is why, in one of Katara's memories, she recalls Sokka blaming her for their mother's death.

**steph: "I live in Devon, England, but am French, so you've got another nationality among your readers"** - Woo! It's so awesome to me to have so many readers from around the world. 3

**InItToWinIt: "Are you going to bring up Zuko's birthday that passed?"** - Yes, I think so. It won't be anything huge, but Katara will likely address it.

**Kasumi96: "Do you think we could get a chapter about Zuko and Azula when they were kids and actually got along? "** - Possibly. I don't really have any plans right now, but if the scene calls for it, I would definitely have Zuko talk about some positive memories with Azula.


	19. Return to the Capital

**A/N:** Wowza, that was a long wait. I'm so sorry. Unfortunately I've been having a lot of problems with my laptop, on top of being super busy. Buuut I finally finished! I had to cut this one off because once again, it was getting super long. :P So the good news is the next chapter already has about 2,000 words. :D Hopefully I won't have to take my laptop in and can get you guys an update much faster next time. Rest assured that no matter how long it takes, I am not abandoning this story. I appreciate your patience, as always. Enjoy!

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><p><strong>Chapter 19 - Return to the Capital<strong>

"What is the weapon of choice?" Piandao asks, circling and examining every inch of me. It's been two days since the Order's meeting, and my first day training with him. We're standing in the middle of the open courtyard under a heated midday sun. Sweat already beads on my forehead and we haven't even started.

"A…sword?" I offer.

"Wrong. _Any_ weapon is a weapon of choice. Do not prefer one to another; else it will become your crutch."

I nod, considering his words. It wasn't a sword or a dagger that killed the princess, the most powerful of us tributes. It was a crown. Not even a weapon at all. "Yes, Master Piandao."

"Just Piandao," he offers with a small smile. "Now, you must firstly begin to think of a weapon as not a weapon at all, but an extension of yourself."

"Kind of like Waterbending," I say more to myself than him.

"Yes, precisely. The blade moves with you." He lifts his make-shift wooden sword and slowly slashes through the air, smooth and controlled. "The blade _is_ you. You must learn to be one with the blade." He falls into a fighting stance, keeping the sharp wood pointed at me. "Whether you take an offensive or defensive approach, you must always be ready. Raise your weapon."

I lift the wooden dagger. It's not heavy, but it still feels a little awkward in my left hand. Definitely not like an extension of my arm. Piandao tips his chin up, implying I should lift the dagger higher. I obey.

"Good," he says. "Keep it close to your body. Strike hard, strike fast. Never turn your back on your opponent. Never look away."

"That seems obvious," I muse aloud.

"Distractions happen. Even the smallest glance away can cost you your life. You must learn to utilize your peripheral vision, and never take your eyes off your main target."

I nod, circling as he circles me, never looking away.

"With less than two weeks until you leave, we will focus strictly on one-handed combat with your non-dominant hand. Once you master your bending, you will have the element of range, and close combat with a weapon."

My heart sinks. The other day I had tried to work on my water whip. I kept losing control of the water completely, watching as it shattered at my feet.

I haven't tried again since.

Piandao seems to notice my fear. His expression softens as he says, "We can—"

"No," I interrupt, tightening my hold. "I'm ready."

"Then let us begin."

By dinner, my muscles are aching so badly that I walk stiff as a board through the house. Today's lesson mostly consisted of footwork, balance, and defense. Learning how to block with a weapon and counter an attack. The stance is what has my legs so sore. Piandao showed me it's more than just slashing away. There's a rhythm and dance to the movements, almost like bending.

I enter the dining room to find Nikka setting up cloth napkins and utensils. "Dinner will be ready soon, Katara," she says to me.

"I can help."

"It's okay," she assures me with a smile. "Go ahead and take a seat. I'm nearly finished."

I watch her leave in silence. Earlier she took over the load of laundry I was finishing up. I don't think I'll ever get used to people cooking for me or not needing my help.

I turn back to the table and notice it's near emptiness. Zuko sits at the head of the table poring over documents. He doesn't seem to even notice me. I can't help but shake my head as I walk over and pull out the chair on his right. "You do realize this is a dinner table, right?" I ask him, grimacing as I stiffly sit down.

He doesn't bother to look up. "A table is a table."

"Well, this is also the _dining room_. You know, where people eat."

"Is that what people do in those?"

"Was that almost a joke?" I raise a brow in question. "Did the serious, brooding Prince Zuko use sarcasm just now?"

His eyes remain on his work, but his mouth twists, almost into a smile.

I stare at the stack of heavy tombs to his right, books he found in his father's study here at the estate. My gaze drops to the place setting before me—the delicate white plate rimmed with gold. The soft, thick maroon fabric of the napkins. Not a scratch or chip on the porcelain. Even the table is elaborately carved, with flowers and vines engraved along the edges. The walls, too, a thick cream paint with wood panels. So much extravagance for a _second_ house.

"What are you thinking about?" Zuko asks gently. I don't have to look to know he's staring at me now. I wonder what he sees.

I think about shrugging him off or making up some lie, but for some reason I speak honestly. "Just…how different our upbringings were. You have a library in your home, and studies filled with knowledge and books. I don't think we ever had more than two or three. Children stories, no less. Not anything worth value." I pick up the delicate white cup laid before me. Green vines and pink roses are painted along the inside. "This would probably fetch for a month's wages at home."

He doesn't say anything. I can't look away from the cup for some reason as I turn it over in my hands, the porcelain soft and delicate. The sound that comes from me is a hollow, mocking replica of a laugh. "I know you're probably thinking it's just a cup," I say.

Before he can respond—if he is going to respond at all—Nikka backs into the dining room carrying a heavy tray filled with roasted vegetables. Her voice echoes through the house as she calls for dinner. I sit the cup back down, somehow a little less hungry.

* * *

><p>I don't know the last time I've sat around a dinner table with friends, even if these friendships are more based on alliances. At home, dinner was a quiet affair, with three crammed chairs around a rickety table and pot of stew. During my time in the Games, both as a tribute and mentor, meals were served in a cafeteria, the base for forming alliances or isolation. Even in Thirteen, the mess hall was far from intimacy.<p>

But now, the long oak table is filled with our rag-tag group surrounding bowls and plates of steaming hot food and a pot of spicy, warm tea. As we eat, everyone falls into mindless chatter, and the greatest part is that nothing about the rebellion or potential war comes up. Bowen tells wild stories that can't possibly be true, and Nikka talks about her abilities with a thread and needle, her love for rich silks and patterns. Jeong Jeong is expectantly quiet, and Piandao goes into detail on how to forge a sword, gaining most of my attention. Toph—now off bedrest—is explaining various weapons to a wide eyed Jin, earning constant frowns from me even if I know she won't see.

Zuko watches it all with reserved observation, his chin resting in his palm. It's hard to tell what's going on in his head. The first real reaction I see from him is when Leo mentions the increased security in Two.

"We'll have to be careful going into Two from now on," says the prince. "We can't have anyone noticing this house is occupied. No candles after dark. Travel in pairs at all times."

I notice Toph picking at her barely touched food. "Eat, Toph," I say to her. "You've already lost too much weight."

"I'm not that hungry, _Mom_."

"You barely ate breakfast this morning."

"Is it my cooking?" Nikka asks, her eyes wide and cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I can—"

"That's not necessary, Nikka." I throw a pointed look at Toph, even if she can't see it. "The food is delicious and we are grateful you cook and prepared our meals. Right, Toph?"

She mumbles something under her breath.

"Toph!"

"I'm just not hungry, okay?" she snaps. Then to my surprise, she shoves herself away from the table and leaves the dining room. I watch her go in awe, unable to formulate a response.

"What was that about?" Leo murmurs.

I get up to follow her, ignoring my name being called. I make it to her door and hesitate, my hand balled into a fist and ready to knock.

"Kat," a voice whispers down the corridor. I throw a glare his way, staring as Bowen beckons me with a hand. "Come here."

"No," I whisper, my voice sharp.

"Just hear me out."

"Hear _what_ out?"

"You know I can hear you, right?" Toph snaps from inside her room. "Go away."

"You need to eat something!" I shout at the door.

"I said go away!"

"Fine!" I bang a fist on the wood, ignoring the sharp pain that shoots up my arm. "You can just…just starve!"

I storm down the corridor, only to be stopped by Bowen as he grips me by the elbow and pulls me into a room—my room.

"What's her problem?" I rip my arm away and turn to face him, anger rising. "I'm just trying to help!"

"I know," he says, his voice annoying placating.

"Do you?"

He sighs. "Most likely, her appetite is still low. Mine isn't back to normal yet, either. They didn't exactly offer us three course meals at the Capital."

A symptom from the torture she endured. Why didn't I realize this? She acts so hard sometimes that I forget the things she's endured.

I sink onto the edge of my bed, burying my face in my hands. "I'm such a jerk."

"For caring?" I can hear the amusement in his voice. "She's lucky to have you, even if you're a little bossy sometimes. Not everyone has someone to look after them."

My hands slide down my face as I look up at him, feeling even _more_ like a jerk. How long has it been since he had someone to look after him? He seems to read my thoughts and just shrugs. Our shoulders press together as he sits down next to me.

"We never needed anyone. We got by fine, just the two of us," he says. "Until she…" He shrugs again, his voice trailing off.

I stare at my door, at the little light seeping in from the crack. Sometimes I forget he had to abandon his mother like I did my dad.

"Why Asami?" I say finally, surprising myself by the question. "Why give up her name?"

"I had to say something," he says grimly. "Besides, the best lies are always close to the truth."

"You're good at lies, aren't you?"

"I try to be good at everything," he says. "Especially things that keep me alive."

I almost smile at that, but then I realize Zuko will have told Iroh about Asami's name being given. I wonder what Ursa will make of it. And what about the Fire Lord? I just hope everyone that escaped manages to stay hidden, and that Ursa writes to us with a plan soon. I hate being separated from them—from my dad—but I know it's the safest option right now. I just want to get back to them. The waiting is the worst part. After everything I've endured, my imagination is my own worst nightmare.

"We shouldn't have gone to the festival," I say quietly. "Every second should be spent planning our next move—training, doing something productive. The only good thing about the festival was that it prompted the idea of infiltrating the temple."

"I wouldn't say it was the _only_ good thing."

"It's for people who want to celebrate—to have fun. We can't…we don't get to do that. Not yet."

Bowen turns to me and taps me on the nose. "When is the last time you did something fun, Kat? Not something you had to do, but _wanted_ to do?"

"I…I don't know. A long time ago, probably," I admit. It's a sad realization.

"This world—the Games—it's all designed to break us. Don't be afraid," Bowen says quietly, his green eyes bright. "Don't be afraid to let yourself want something. And don't be afraid to take it."

I shrug away the sudden heaviness weighing me down. "I've never had that luxury. My life has always been of necessity and survival."

Bowen says nothing for a long moment. "I'm worried about you." His voice is so unusually soft that I snap my eyes back to his. "I'm worried you're sinking lower and lower. And trust me, I know all about that. It's hard to climb out of that hole." He reaches over and interlocks our fingers, squeezing tight. "Don't go somewhere your friends can't follow."

My chest suddenly feels a little less tight, even as my words come out a little choked. "Are you my friend?"

"Yeah," he says, and I can tell he means it. "I am."

I squeeze back. The warmth is a comfort I've needed for a long time, the warmth of a friend. "Thank you."

"Any time." He lets go and nudges me playfully under the chin. "Now what were you going to ask me earlier?"

I hesitate, nearly forgetting our conversation this morning after breakfast. "It's personal. Something I probably _shouldn't_ ask."

His lips slowly form a sly grin. "Kat…"

"No!" I punch him in the shoulder. "Nothing _too_ personal. Just…maybe not something you want to talk about."

"I can think of a lot of things I don't want to talk about. Spill it."

I take a deep breathe. "I know…I know he's your father," I say. "And if you don't want to talk about it, that's fine. I understand. I just want you to know that I'm here if you do."

Bowen's grin fades. His jaw tightens, a stiffness to his usual loose personality. He turns away from me and stares straight ahead. "That's not a question after all."

"In my head, it was, but it came out wrong," I admit.

He lets out a short, rough laugh.

"How long have you known?" I ask gently.

"Long enough."

"How…I mean, I thought you were from Six?"

"I am."

"You don't have to talk about it."

"I know. But...maybe it's time I do," he says. He sighs, somehow sounding older than his twenty years. "Back when victors traveled to all the provinces instead of just the Fire provinces, Piandao met my mother when he came to Six. She never talked about him. She told me who he was when I was kid—only a few months after she finally told him. It didn't matter, though. He was a victor from a Fire province, and she was no one. Just a silly girl he met on his tour."

I fight the urge to touch his arm, to offer some sort of support. "Did he…did he write to you?"

"He wrote, sent money, promises he could never keep. I wanted nothing to do with any of it."

"Bowen," I start hesitantly, finding it hard to picture the man in the dining room as the one Bowen is painting, "maybe he did all that he could. The Fire Lord doesn't exactly let all of us travel between provinces."

"Then maybe he should have thought of that before jumping into bed on tour," he snaps, curling his fingers into the fabric at his sides.

For a moment, I almost throw _his_ reputation in his face, but think better of it. "I'm sorry," I say instead. "I'm sorry for bringing it up."

He just shakes his head. "He'd ask about her sometimes in letters—my mother. I've never told him of her condition."

"Why not?"

"She has me. She doesn't need him," he says, like it's the most obvious answer. "Anyway, he stopped writing eventually when he got the picture. That man in there," he gestures toward the door with a jerk of his chin, "is no one to me. A victor—an ally, possibly— but that's it."

There's a finality in his voice that stops all further questions. I stand up to leave, to apologize to Toph if she'll have it. Before I go, I squeeze Bowen's shoulder. "As I said, I am always here for you. Someday, I hope you can forgive him. If only for your sake, so you can find peace." Then I leave him, shutting the door softly behind me.

* * *

><p>I've seen enough shirtless men to not be completely distracted, but I have to admit, watching Zuko and Bowen train <em>is<em> a little distracting. Piandao urged me to watch their footwork, so I try to keep my eyes trained on their feet as they move. But every so often, my eyes wander up, past their rippled stomachs and along their cut, muscular arms, to the sharp faces gleaming with sweat. I may not feel _that_ way about Bowen, but even I can admit how attractive he is. When Nikka whistles at him as she carries a load of laundry to the house, he winks at her before presuming his training.

Jin brings them fresh glasses of water, her cheeks burning a deep shade of crimson as they thank her. When she practically sprints past, I tell her she can sit with me, but she just shakes her head profusely and darts back inside. Bowen watches her go with a soft fondness before turning back to Zuko.

"It's way too hot," Toph complains from her lounging position next to me. We purchased Fire province clothes and she didn't take my advice on choosing a skirt instead of long pants. But at least she forgave me for the other night. "Remind me why we're here again?"

"I'm watching their footwork. You don't have to be here," I point out.

"I'm bored. Can't we do something else? Watching won't do you any good anyway," she says airily. "You need to be out there _doing_ it."

"I will, but Piandao says I need to watch first. You know, crawl before I walk."

Toph groans. "Leave the wise sayings to the fossils, will you?"

I cringe at the thought of Piandao or Pakku or Jeong Jeong being referred to as a _fossil_. But thinking of Pakku only makes my chest ache with longing.

Zuko bends down and picks up a towel to wipe down his sweaty neck and face. He laughs at something Bowen says—actually _laughs_. I haven't heard that laugh in so long that I've forgotten how much I miss it. Another pang rips through me.

"I've seen enough," I say, standing up. "I'm going to find Piandao. Want to join us?"

"Don't need to," she says with a yawn.

I scowl at her, hands flying to my hips. "Even Master's still train and you're not even that, you know."

"Maybe not, but I'm good enough." She flicks her wrist and the rock of the stairs and paved ground flies up, encasing me from all sides so only my head is free.

"_Toph!_"

* * *

><p>It takes a full week for me to truly show progress in my lessons with Piandao. He tells me I was already a decent fighter, but need polish and more practice. It was a slightly understated comment. I didn't realize how true that was until I started training with him. There wasn't much technique in the arena. At least not for me. It was fight and survive—or die. But now, I'm actually being <em>taught<em>. Piandao shows me how to lunge at the right moment, and when to fall back and block. He helps strengthen my less dominant arm, and work on aiming and striking. It's the little things, I realize, that make the difference.

The night of the ball finally arrives. Many arguments and debates later, we have our plan. As I lie awake the night before, staring at the ivory painted ceiling, I can't help but think of all the ways it could go wrong.

"You need to sleep," Zuko says, his back to me. I didn't even realize he was awake, too.

"I can't."

"Try."

I sigh. "I _am_ trying."

"Try harder."

"Maybe you should take your own advice!" I snap at him, rolling to my side, facing away from him. Then I sigh again. "I'm so tired of plans. When I'm not fulfilling a plan, I'm making one, or thinking of one. I wish I could just go down to the ocean and play in the water without a care in the world."

"Someday." The prince says it like a promise. I feel him shift, and an arm wraps around my waist, pulling me to his chest. "Someday, you will," he says into my hair.

I find his hand and lock our fingers, finding solace in the promise I'm not sure he can keep. And when I finally drift to sleep, I dream of a future so perfect it could never be true.

* * *

><p>"I look ridiculous."<p>

"You can't even see yourself, Toph."

She huffs at me. "I don't _need_ to see to know how stupid I look."

"It's…it's not that bad." I have to force myself not to laugh myself. I tug lightly on her pigtails.

"Stop that," she hisses, pulling away from me. "I look like a child."

"You're _supposed_ to look like a child," I say. "That's the whole point."

And she does. She's wearing bright crimson robes with golden dragonflies stitched along the belt, with a sheer shawl hanging over her shoulders. Combined with her height, and hair styled in two pigtails with sparkly bows, she easily passes as a ten year old. And since we'll all be wearing masks, no one will recognize her, either.

"Yeah? Well, maybe I don't want to go as _your child_." She hops off the stool in front of my mirror and looks even more childish as she crosses her arms.

I pinch the bridge of my nose and repeat, for the hundredth time, why this is necessary. "Toph, you are ridiculously short. You know you can disguise your voice to sound even younger. The Capital is not going to be suspicious of a family of three. We have to be invisible to slip inside."

She groans and tilts her head to the ceiling, as if saying _why me?_

But she knows why—why it has to be the three of us—even if she doesn't like it, so she keeps quiet when Zuko comes into the room and tells us it's time.

* * *

><p>Even though much of the Fire Days festival is free to the public, the ball is not. Invitations are available for Fire province members for a hefty price. Zuko gave Leo enough gold to purchase three for us when he went into the city of Two this morning. Between costumes, living expenses, invitations, and food, I wonder how much is left in the family safe kept at the estate. Probably enough to feed a small army, I realize, and feel less guilty.<p>

But ever since Leo came back, the prince has been different. Detached. I don't know what news Leo brought back from Two, but it rattled Zuko enough to keep to his—our—room most of the day. When I ask him what's wrong, he tells me nothing, as if I don't notice his change in demeanor. But I let it go because we have a job to do.

Our invitations also work as free passes to taking a carriage into the Capital, though many members of Two have their own, I notice. Zuko had said they have one at the estate, too, but it's engraved with the royal seal, making it far too conspicuous. So we find an empty carriage in Two and flash our invitations to the driver without a word.

Bowen scoped the gates earlier to see how they were allowing citizen's to enter the Capital. Thankfully, they aren't requiring the removal of masks, and all is needed is an invitation. A sign of the Fire Lord's lack of precaution. He's not worried about infiltration—and why should he? Who, besides us, would be so stupid to enter the province of the people hunting them?

The carriage pauses, long enough that I crane a head out the window and notice a line of carriages. There's a small queue, about three carriages ahead of us, waiting to enter One. I hold up three gloved fingers to Zuko and Toph, indicating why we've stopped. First part of the plan: talk as little as possible. Zuko isn't to do more than whisper.

After a few minutes, we pull up to the Guard waiting at the entrance. I tap Toph on the knee just as a Guard approaches.

"Are we there yet?" she whines, bouncing slightly in her seat. I hand over our invitations as the Guard looks at Toph.

"In a few minutes, darling," I say, trying to channel an older, regal voice that's slightly muffled by my white and gold mask.

The Guard pokes his head inside almost lazily and then hands back our invitations. He steps back and nods at the driver. The carriage lurches forward, taking us into One. I let out a deep breath and sit back in my seat.

Zuko, sitting across from us, visibly loosens a little. His mask is the same blue and white one he wore at the festival, the eyes and mouth a fathomless black. The seriousness of it completely contradicts Toph's ridiculous mask—shades of blue, with a goofy, wide grin, and straw sticking out around the sides like a glowing sun. It's cringingly upbeat, but perfect for a child. Mine on the other hand is simple, white with painted gold around the eyes and lips, matching the gold of my dress that covers every inch of my body to hide my skin. I'm wearing slightly high sandals though, just to put more distance between myself and Toph. Our outfits are nice enough to not be considered shabby, but not so extravagant to draw attention to ourselves. Blending in is crucial.

The streets of the Capital are filled with color and celebration, the remains of the festival obviously still lingering among the people. I watch with a pang of anger and jealousy as children run and play in the streets, and wealthy nobles go about their evening rituals. The shops are still bustling and as we pass a busy inn, I can hear the music playing from the tavern. I shift my gaze and notice Zuko watching, too. I wonder what he's thinking, if he's thinking how blind these people are in their blissful bubble, unaware of the potential war on the horizon or the way other provinces' are made to suffer. Or maybe he's too filled of longing, of seeing the place he's always known as home.

We finally reach the palace. Zuko tips the driver wordlessly when he opens the doors. The prince holds out a gloved hand and I take it, lifting up my long dress with my free hand as I step down. Toph follows, hopping down the steps, completely in character. I hand Zuko the invitations and then take her hand in mine, like a mother would do a child in a busy crowd. I glance up at the looming palace before me. Just as magnificent, all sharp edges and glistening crimson and midnight, it's hard to picture it as a home. Citizen's crowd around the entrance, eager to get to the ball. Keeping a tight hold on Toph, I hook my other arm through Zuko's and let him lead us inside.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Thank you for reading! Finally some backstory on Bowen and Piandao. I've been wanting to share this forever it seems like, since I first started writing The Rise of One! :P That's one thing I've really enjoyed with this story, actually, is the dynamics between parents and their kid(s). Anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter.

(Also, thank you everyone for the kind words about my wedding! I totally thought I told you guys when I got engaged. Maybe I didn't? *slaps self* Anyway, the planning has been fun, though a bit time consuming. Thank you as always for your patience and support!)

Review Responses

**Maxion: "I just can't put into words how amazing this is! I'm a new writer and honestly, you're my inspiration."** - Wow, that is truly the highest compliment I could possibly receive! And thank you...I'm so glad you're enjoying the story!

**Guest: "And I think you based Bowen on Finnick from the actual series."** - Yes, he was inspired by Finnick. :)

**"A lot of writers leave their stories unfinished and i hate it because im finally hooked on a good story and they just leave it at that."** - No worries. I will definitely finish. Updates are a bit slow right now, but I already have an ending in mind, so I will for sure finish this.

**weirdpizza: "Is Zuko going to find out what happened to Katara when she was being tortured by Zhao under the palace?"** - Possibly.

**Guest: "DUDE! PIANDO IS BOWEN'S DAD¡! Holy plot twist Batman"** - Yessss. Seriously, it felt like I waited years (and maybe I did lol) to reveal that.

**fanficfantasies: "I don't really have anything to say, but you said in one of your review responses earlier that you love meeting new readers so ... Hello!"** - Yesss, I do! Hello to you as well! *hugs*

**Kslamm: "I wanted to know, why do you ship Zutara? — I absolutely love Zutara and am glad you do too because I love your stories (btw I love "This Is My Idea") — I remember you listing your top five fave ATLA characters, but I don't think Katara was even up there. Just curious since you're so great at writing their relationship and keeping true to Katara's close relationships with Aang, Toph, Sokka, etc. "** - Firstly, thank you! But oh man, writing why I like Zutara would be such a long post, lol. I'll try to summarize it and be concise, but mostly I love their story. I love having two characters being against each other, having differences, then learning to come together and grow into something beautiful. In fiction, I love relationships that aren't easy, that you have to work for. Zuko and Katara had such a beautiful story and their relationship is so wonderfully balanced. They make each other stronger and are a solid team. I just love their dynamics in general.

Katara oddly is not in my top five in ATLA. I love writing her, but her attitude and behavior in ATLA annoyed me a lot lol. I respect her a lot and there is a lot I truly love about her. But I wasn't crazy about her dynamics with Aang, which was a huge chunk of the show. I think one of the reasons I like her a lot more in my story is because she's a bit darker, and more mature with age.

**xlovelygirl: "And speaking of Jin, how old is she?"** - Jin is 17 years old. :) Also, your English is great! No worries there at all.

**Awestuck: "Is there going to be a point when he's going to cry?"** - He actually has, in my mind. It's just that we're limited to what Katara sees. Zuko isn't one to want other's to see him break down because he thinks it makes him weak. Even with Katara, whom he lets most of his walls down for. I don't want to say he won't cry, of course. But I wanted to point out that he has, in this series. It's just that Katara hasn't seen it.

**Reader bc: "is Jin the Annie in this story"** - Jin is actually inspired by Annie and Prim, as well as Jin (obviously) from the actual series. :) As for your other questions, you can always message me! I try to answer mostly story related ones on here. :)

**Tophlet: "We know how badass she is in the series compared to pretty much every other earth bender alive but how close to the truth is that here?"** - She's a pretty strong bender, but not as talented as in the series. Not yet at least.

**"It's a great testament to the strength of your characterization that none of their attachment relies on sexual tension and I really appreciate that"** - Thank you, truly! I love sexual tension like nobody's business, but I also like when there's a deep connection that goes beyond it. Which I wanted to try to do here. Glad you like it!


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